


Cherry Pie

by Cyrelia_J



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Dubious Science, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Other, Pegging, Power Play, Rimming, Rough Sex, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme de anon from way back. Genderbend via sci fi device. Meeting America in a bar Canada's angry that he's late and decides to have some fun. America shows up and graphic porn is the result. America/fem!Canada</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think most people have read this somewhere but since I'm trying to have more complete archives of my stuff other than ff.net there you go. This will be continued in a darker sequel and then a not quite as dark 3rd story but it can be read by itself too. i debated posting the entirety of the work but it's somewhat long so I figured I'd keep the original formatting. C&C is welcome on anything I write. A few people not speaking on this work specifically had expressed a distaste for making America more "buff" than he really is but sometimes I get in a mood for that sort of thing so yeah... there you have it, small apologies if that's not your cup of tea. Enjoy!

Canada definitely got more attention when he was a woman. Even sitting on the barstool alone waiting for America he could feel everyone’s eyes on him. He - _no, it’s she for now-_ **She** went to automatically correct her posture but realized she wasn’t  actually slouching. Canada tended to forget that she sat up straighter when she was a woman. She took another long drink of the cold Molson somewhat disappointed that she was going to miss the game tonight but after last month’s incident she couldn’t blame America for arranging their rendezvous at a dance club and not a sports bar. Really, her brother acted like a drunken bar fight was the end of the world. Canada was far more disappointed in breaking the strap on her favorite pair of heels than she was at having to get bailed out of jail. 

She shifted on the stool and looked at one of the large plasma screens on the wall checking the time again. Great, America was over an hour late. _It’s bad enough I have to miss the game tonight because he doesn’t think I can behave but he doesn’t even have the decency to show up on time?_ _I should tell him off_. She huffed and took another drink looking around. _He’ll probably show up in a pair of fucking jeans and a fucking t shirt after I spent a stupid amount of time getting ready, too._ As another man walked by that night and let his eyes linger a little too long, she supposed the effort had at least paid off.

Canada was dressed to kill tonight in a short red strapless dress. The material was some sort of lycra poly blend something or other that wore like a second skin. She was pretty sure she could see the outline of her belly button when she looked at herself in the mirror. When she had first tried the garment on in the store her face had been as red as the fabric and she’d determined hell would freeze over before she bought it.

_“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this thing outside,” she’d hissed from behind the fitting room door._

_“Cmon, Mattie,” she heard America’s voice from the other side. “It can’t be that-“ He was brought up short as she threw the door open red and embarrassed._

_“Look at this!” she looked around furiously as she half whispered half yelled. America had looked alright, along with half the store._

_“I can’t go out in public like this. I look like a damn Barbie doll.”_

_“No way, bro, Barbie never had abs like that.” He ran his calloused fingers over the shallow ridges of her stomach muscles. They had both been somewhat surprised  after the “magic” transformation that Canada still retained the same height and weight; it had merely been redistributed into a rather buxom and strong female body._

_She hadn’t complained about that although America had been initially put out that she wasn’t petite. Hell, he could still pick her up as if she weighed nothing so he really had no right to complain. And right now she was about to hit him when she caught the looks -and the attempts at discreet leers- from some of the stores other patrons. One woman grabbed her male companion’s arm and dragged him bodily from the store. It was then she realized, uncrossing her arms, that it might be nice to be noticed for once._

She knew that she wouldn’t enjoy this type of scrutiny on a regular basis, but here and there with the help of America’s –well, Tony’s really- device, it was quite exhilarating. Naturally the first time America had suggested turning into a woman for “shits and giggles” she thought he was absolutely crazy. What was he trying to imply, after all? But she’d almost never been able to say no to him and admittedly she was curious. Sitting here now, she was rather glad she let America talk her into it. She was desired and noticed and in spite of his protests to the contrary she felt like America actually wanted her more. 

Canada crossed a leg and looked down at the clear heels she was currently sporting. Poland had a lot to say about the subject of clear heels when she’d gone shopping with him; Poland had quite an opinion on a lot of things she’d realized that day. 

_“Like seriously even Chris Rock did a bit about those things. You can’t go wrong with black pumps. Black pumps say “classy”. Clear heels say baby mama white trash.” He actually had taken a breath here. “Well... you_ **_are_ ** _banging America after all...” They picked up an extra pair just in case._

She took another drink and then realized the bottle was empty. Another look at the clock revealed that America’s lateness had gone from fashionable to fucking ridiculous. _It’d serve his ass right if I just had fun without him,_ she thought irritated. A smirk crossed her face as she turned towards the small dance floor. They agreed to meet downstairs where the dance area was a lot smaller and more visible. She was about to use that to her advantage. _Alright, Al, you’re gonna stand me up without so much as a phone call?_ And she had in fact checked with the bartender in the middle of her musings; no messages for Maddie Williams. She wasn’t gonna read him the riot act tonight; she was going to get even. 

Canada walked out onto the small dance floor tired of merely watching everyone. She asked the bartender to put the two beers she’d had on America’s tab. He was well known here, after all as odd as she had initially found that. She’d always thought him more rock than hip hop, but hey, she loved all types of music. She didn’t recognize the song that was playing but the bass was loud and the beat was fast; that was good enough for her. He could use a reminder that they were hardly exclusive and if he ever wanted to take that step this sure as hell wasn’t the way to go.

Hands tangling in her short hair, she closed her eyes, enjoying the rhythm and letting her body move as it wanted. Her hands slid down, running over her stomach and hips and she felt that odd thrill as if she were fondling someone else entirely. It wasn’t long before she felt a warmth that wasn’t from the crowd around her and she opened her eyes to see a tall -he had to be if he was eye level with her in those heels- muscular man in front of her. She licked her lips as she eyed him up and down; he was doing the same.

“See anything you like?” She asked thrilling at how much America was going to flip his shit when he finally arrived.

“Yeah, girl,” he answered in a husky baritone. “Ain’t never seen a sistah with eyes like yours.” It still amazed her how different she appeared to humans, but she supposed it made sense; they saw what they wanted to see. Canada looked around briefly but still didn’t see America. _Well fuck him._ It would serve him right to have to take her smelling of human: even better to have a human’s seed leaking out of her. 

“Got them from my mother,” she answered easily leaning in closer so he could hear her soft voice. She continued the movement of her hips to the music taking note of how his eyes moved down to her chest; large tracts of land seemed to appeal to both humans and nations alike. “I think my date ditched me. You wanna dance?”

She watched his eyes light up and the smile broaden his face. She took another moment to admire him; she loved the long dreadlocks pulled back from his face.

“Hell yeah, baby! Can’t imagine the fool that would leave you here alone but I ain’t complaining. Mmm, turn around and let me look at you.” Canada complied with a slight flush to her face. She’d understood on an intellectual level that her female form was... well as America had put it “totally fucking hot”, but really accepting it was sometimes odd. She heard a loud “Dayum” from behind her and couldn’t help the heat she felt as she looked back at the man; it was nice to feel desired. 

“So, dance?” She asked again, tucking her short blonde – well to him she supposed it must be black- hair behind one ear. She didn’t need to ask twice.

Another loud beat started playing and this time she recognized the song within 2 seconds. _I wonder if I should be embarrassed,_ she wondered as the DJ announced an “old school classic”. _This is what they call old school now? Jeez, RUN DMC is old school... why do I even know that?_ She never could quite pinpoint why on earth she liked this song- it was American misogynist hip hop at its finest- but damn if it didn’t always make her want to move. She never said as much to America lest he never let her live it down.  Of course he also refused to believe any decent rap ever came out of her country either. Hello, was War Party chopped liver? For fucks sake he even tried to claim K’naan was his after hearing Wavin’ Flag. 

As soon as she heard “three six nine,” she was moving with abandon. She kept her eyes open, watching for any signs of America but as her hips rocked back and forth and she let the prompt of “get low” lead her she found she wasn’t really paying attention. Her partner moved behind her and she felt his large, strong hands on her waist as she danced. He was behind her, grinding into her and a small exhilarated smile was one her face while they moved. Canada was definitely impressed by the hard length she felt against her ass. Arms above her head she undulated with him, eyes half mast.

It was hot in there, almost too hot on the dance floor and she could feel herself just wanting to drown in his heat and scent: a mix of Ralph Lauren’s “Romance” and black and milds. It was too much too soon though, and as the second chorus started up she pulled away just slightly. Canada shot a promising look over her shoulder before she bent over and started shaking British Columbia rather expertly. She got low. She let her body drop slowly, her ass still gyrating with the beat until she nearly did hit the floor. She started to rise again slowly, bent at the waist and he was behind her again with an excited shake of his head and a rough smack to her ass. He bent over her for a moment and she was definitely liking his flexibility.

“Mmm, girl I could tear that ass up,” she felt his breath hot in her ear and felt her legs wobble just slightly before he moved again. His fingers tangled in her short hair, hips snapping as if he were fucking her.

The song blurred without stop into some odd track about not being an alcoholic just drinking a lot, and that was when she caught sight of America entering the club. Even in the shitty lighting it was hard to miss the accent lights glinting off his golden hair and those eyes, like hers, were bright and nearly incandescent. As always that caught her attention first, but what really stood out was his dress. _I knew it! A fucking ratty t shirt and blue jeans!_ A pack of cigarettes- Marlboro’s like “real men smoked- was rolled up into the sleeve. He didn’t actually smoke them; he’d been carrying around what seemed to be the samecrinkled up pack since the 50s. They were probably stale. The brief glare she shot at the scuffed sneakers could’ve blistered paint. She had a passing painful memory of cutting her fucking labia shaving while she watched him swagger in like James fucking Dean slept in his clothes and rolled out of bed. _Y’know what, fuck you, Al._  

Her partner’s grip loosened after a time and he let her up. Canada turned around and straddled his leg, her arms around his neck. She smiled as he licked his lips. He seemed to just now realize that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She hadn’t needed to really: whether it was some odd side effect of the transmogrifier or simple part of being a nation she wasn’t sure. In any case she –and judging by the expression her partner as well- wasn’t complaining. As she rutted against his leg she could feel America’s eyes on her and her entire body warmed up. _That's right, Al. Watch me. Watch and kiss it, jerk._ He had to be seething. Served him right.

Seething might not have been exactly the word to describe what America was feeling as he finally spotted Canada on the dance floor (it was damn hard to miss a 5’11” goddess in red), but it was pretty damn close. Alright, so maybe he was a little late: couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, could it? And maybe he wasn’t exactly dressed to the nines but at least his clothes were clean. He figured she’d be pissed and probably have a few choice words for him- or not; Canada could really be a passive aggressive prick sometimes. He’d be more likely to hear some snotty song on the radio about 1812 than he’d hear “Hey Al, you were a real asshole last night.” But this? This was too much. _Okay so waking up in the gutter in Amsterdam wearing, a skirt, a diaper, and clown makeup that one time kinda sucked but this?! Aw hell no._

He saw Canada’s eyes meet his for a fraction of a second and he saw that glare. Okay fine, so she was **really** pissed. He was still expecting her to excuse herself from the Lennox Lewis wannabe that was fucking dry humping her and come over to him. She turned back around and his eyes widened in surprise. _You little…_ She really turned her back on him. She really just turned around and started rubbing against that asshole! Christ she never would’ve done that when she was a guy!

Hell she’d have still been at the bar waiting for him with a drink not slutting it up on the dance floor in that dress- ohgodthatdress- with her ass half hanging out for everyone to see and dammit he was not turned on by the outline of those white cotton panties she always wore ‘cause England said only trollops wore thongs… and didn’t Canada just listen to every goddamn stupid thing eyebrows said… how the hell did he know what her underwear looked like anyway... and like he would fucking approve of that slip of fabric she had on! And why in god’s name did he think it was a good idea to convince her to wear that in public… oh right, that was when he thought she’d be just as shy and mousy as she was as a guy except past experience had seriously taught him otherwise and nonono he was not getting hard watching that fucker feeling her up! ... _Well fuck._

_Alright then, if that’s how you’re gonna play it…_ If she was trying to piss him off she was doing a bang up job of it. He stalked over keeping his expression deliberately neutral for the moment. He was only gonna kick that clown’s ass if he had to. It wouldn’t be very heroic to assault a random stranger; even if his hands were all over Canada’s ass. He approached the two without preamble, shouting over the music. 

“Hey sis, am I interrupting something?!” His smile was tight and didn’t quite reach his eyes. Canada looked at him briefly but turned to her dance partner first before answering. She didn’t stop moving. “Did you want something, Al?” She asked in a tone that clearly said she didn’t want to talk to him. America couldn’t stop the look of annoyance on his face this time as he addressed mister tall dark and getyourfuckinghandsoffshesmine.

“You think you could give us a minute, Milli Vanilli?” He didn’t even make a pretense of being polite.

The loser groping Canada responded in kind. “Hey man, I think if yo sister wanted to talk to you she would. You wanna wait over there til we’re done, LL Fool J?” America definitely wasn’t smiling now. Neither was Canada, really, but she was forgotten as America gave the other man a shove as he practically snarled, “I ain’t waitin’ to talk to my own fucking sister, clown.” She knew he could’ve pushed him a lot harder, but for a human it was a damn sight more aggressive than it needed to be. The guy took a step back but he wasn’t backing down. 

“Hey man, you got a fucking problem?!” 

“Yeah I got a problem with punks that can’t keep they hands to theyself!” _Okay, not good, not good…_ Canada was torn between being nervous and being pissed. America was soaking the atmosphere up like a sponge and at this rate there was no way it was going to end well.

She could hear the quieting down even with the loud music and the others in the club were definitely watching them. _Calm down, you idiot and let’s leave before you do something stupid._

“Al,” she interjected with a frantic hiss, “You made your point let’s just-”

“So I’m a punk now cause I ain’t turn down a bitch wantin to fuck?“ _…On second thought, if you don’t knock his ass through the fucking wall, I will._ America, completely on the same wavelength only barely restrained his strength at the last moment. Even so, the guy ended up floored by what was really only a light jab in America’s opinion. He turned to Canada still riding the adrenaline high, furious with her for letting that asshole feel her up and now she was looking at him like he didn’t know what.

“Al-“ she began only to yelp as he grabbed her and threw her over a broad shoulder like a fucking caveman. He wasn’t hearing any of it and she wasn’t about to make an even bigger scene by fighting with him. There were enough catcalls as it was and she was thankful that none of the other patrons heard the fact that he was her brother. She also was oddly turned on by the possessive look as he grabbed her. She’d never gotten to see it when she was a guy; perhaps she ought to try and overcome her natural reticence in that body as well…

The walk to the car seemed endless.

“God Mattie, I can fucking smell you,” was the first thing America said as he walked into the parking lot. He swore the crisp autumn air was deliberately feeding the scent of her arousal directly into his olfactory senses. Canada opened her mouth to respond but ended up moaning instead as America slid his hand underneath her skirt and stroked the damp cloth between her legs with a finger. He teased her slit through the fabric and shivered as he heard her moan and felt her thighs tighten. The finger worked its way under her panties and he felt the smooth hairless skin immediately.

“Oh Christ, you shaved it.” He massaged and rubbed that soft skin, still sensitive from said shaving earlier. Fuck, her pussy was getting so wet that he easily slid that finger into her heat. She whimpered and whined and there was something just so fucking sexy about those higher pitched noises.

Canada’s voice was always softer than his and yet hearing the needy effeminate whisper of “please Al, please please” it was somehow more desperate and wanting. He added another finger and could feel her body rocking on his shoulder trying hard to get more. Canada’s hands clenched and unclenched and she saw the club getting further away wondering just how the hell far out America parked. _Fuck your fucking car getting scratched did you really have to park way out here?!_ America’s fingers pulled out and Canada yelped as she was unceremoniously deposited on the hood of his full restored ’69 impala. She was thankful the hood of the electric blue muscle car had been reinforced because the last time America had gone from aroused to hysterical sobbing in less than 5 seconds flat.

Canada caught his gaze, the intensity of his stare making her shiver. He brought his fingers to his mouth, sticky with her juices and licked them clean. “Mmm.” He loved the way she tasted. She smirked and quickly slipped her panties off tossing them to him. “You want a taste?” There was a slight blush on her face as she asked. She had never quite understood why it was easier to be sexual when she was a woman than a man. America certainly appreciated the change when it didn’t involve strange men in clubs and with a cocky leer he twirled the undergarments around his index finger. 

“Oh I do I do,” he drawled leaning over her. His fingers moved between her spread legs stroking her wet slit. He licked his fingers off again. “But what if someone comes by~?” he sang rather evilly, she thought.

“Al…” she moaned in protest her hips tilting up. _So help me asshole if you don’t do something._ Alright so it wasn’t much of a threat inside of her head and he laughed softly at her glare. God she was sexy all spread out and needy. His hips pressed against the grill of the car, the pressure hardly a relief against his aching cock but hell at least with the suspension lift it was the right height. His eyes moved down to her chest, the thin scrap of fabric doing nothing to hide her hard nipples and fuck if he wasn’t tempted to pull the dress down and slide his dick in between those gorgeous tits. Canada caught that look and it never failed to arouse her. America looked like he wanted to devour her whole and she reached down giving that innocent pleading expression she’d perfected.

He was nearly undone by that wide eyed look coupled with the way her long fingers held her swollen pink pussy open for him; she’d even painted her nails.

“Please?” Now how could a hero resist a plea for help like that? He shifted, his strong hands holding her soft supple thighs apart eagerly. She was so wet for him, the musk of her arousal made him nearly dizzy as he greedily lapped her wetness. He sucked her swollen labia, rutting against the grill of the car. Canada moaned, hands tangling in America’s hair as she struggled to keep quiet.

“Al… god Al…” she whimpered as his teeth nipped and stretched the sensitive folds. His breath felt so hot against her skin and when his tongue slid inside her slick and questing she found herself panting harder, pushing her hips up, wordlessly begging him for more.

The car rocked as she shook, as she tried to urge him to move his mouth to that ache. She trembled and whined, the heat from her overcharged body warming the cold metal around her. “Please…please… hurts… hurts…” And God did it hurt, her swollen clit throbbed and ached and she didn’t have a fucking car grill to hump. His head lifted, eyes meeting hers and he merely smirked that shit fucking eating America grin and instead pushed three fingers inside without preamble. She brought a hand to her mouth and bit down hard on her finger tasting blood. _Ohgodgodgod you dickhead…_ America watched her practically seize and fuck if he didn’t just want to fuck her right here on the hood of his car. But where was the fun in that?

His fingers curled, he finger fucked her hard, keeping the pressure on that velvet front wall. Her eyes were shut tight, her head shaking back and forth violently as she felt the urge to- _nononono._ She felt like she had to pee so badly and she didn’t want to- she knew that wasn’t it but it was so hard to let go- and America didn’t let up at all. He watched her shake and held a hip still as he worked, his breathing heavy, eyes watching as her tits bounced and her eyes screwed shut. Poor Canada: trying so hard to hold back. He always had to force it out of her but it was always so fucking good. “C’mon baby, squirt for daddy,” he whispered and had she been more coherent she’d have hissed that she would not call him fucking daddy because she was older dammit and stop fucking trying. At least she would have thought it.

Canada’s body needed no further coaxing. Her hips moved more violently, rocked with his thrusts. America shifted his body to the side and did that... that... She never could quite follow his explanation but he knew exactly what he was doing when he scissored his fingers and corkscrewed them seemingly at once. He shivered, his cock throbbing insistently as he watched the stream of clear fluid arc over the hood and hit the blacktop. Christ it must have been at least five feet.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathed and withdrew his fingers licking the slick sticky come from them once more. “Should I fuck you now, Mattie?” he asked stepping back.

Her eyes fell to the large bulge tenting the tight jeans he was wearing. She licked her lips looking hungrily cause god she loved his cock. It still ached, her clit still hot and throbbing because of course that asshole would make her come without letting her really **come**. She breathed heavily thinking as best as she could, removing the bloodied hand from her mouth, and sitting up on an elbow. Her lipstick was smeared, intermingled with blood, and she looked completely wanton as she lapped at the rapidly healing wound. America unzipped his jeans, careful to avoid a There’s Something About Mary moment since he wasn’t wearing underwear. The head of his thick uncut nine inches was slick with precome and he stroked it slowly. She looked as if she could just devour it and he smirked. 

“C’mon…” she whined drawing her legs up careful not to let her heels scratch the paint. 

He put a knee on the hood, cock in hand, and rubbed the head against her clit. She whimpered and he lightly slapped at the hardened nub. 

“Oh God…” Canada could feel her body on edge, her face flushed, her legs trembling. She was so close and as he alternated between rubbing and those quick little pulses, the ache increased, almost painful and the slick inner walls of her pussy contracted in short bursts. Watching those nipples get impossibly harder, watching the sweat beading on her skin and the way her hips moved America almost came himself. He tugged his balls with a quick and rough jerk, and then with a completely wicked expression slapped her clit with a sharp motion.

The sound she made was somewhere between a yelp and a gasp as she was abruptly jerked back from her orgasm. It took her a moment to collect her bearings but once she did she sat up fully, furiously, as he finished zipping his jeans back up. 

“You-!” She pushed herself off the hood with shaky arms, legs wobbly as she stood. America was already backing up making a poor attempt to hide his laughter. He wasn’t going to let her hit him. Canada might not normally have the confidence to put her strength behind it as a guy but she sure as hell did as a woman- and that was better left for the bedroom. 

“Hold still you-“

“Sexy beast?” he teased dancing out of the way again. _Asshole!_ Her mind supplied, but she merely glared daggers huffing at him annoyed.

“C’mon, Mattie, let’s go. Sooner we get back to the hotel the sooner we can take care of your little problem.” He winked as he fished for his keys. She turned with a grumble and retrieved her panties from the hood of the car. **_My_** _little problem, he says like he can just shut it on and off._ She wrinkled her nose at the wet cotton underwear and balled it up with a sigh. She was **not** putting those back on. Canada pulled the dress back down- for all the difference it made- and admired America’s ass in his jeans as he unlocked the passenger door. He paused, leaning in, his breath hot against her ear. 

“Besides, if I fuck you now, my cum’s just gonna leak out of you and go to waste.” He punctuated the remark with a hard squeeze to her ass. She shivered and took a deep breath. Her body had just finally started to come down and all at once again she could feel the warmth running through her nerves. 

“Just you wait, Mattie, I’m gonna fill your holes so full you won’t be able to stand it. Can your healthcare system handle that many American immigrants?” _Yes, oh God yes,_ she thought as he left her and walked to the driver’s side. Her mouth felt dry as she got into the car and she was careful to keep her skirt pulled down over the freshly detailed vinyl. Her leg shook impatiently as she watched America turn the car over and pull his laptop out from under the seat. _Really, Al, you’re gonna mess around with that_ ** _now_** _?!_ “Al…” she began rather insistently as he booted up the ibook. She heard him mutter something about rims and sat back with a huff rolling her eyes. She was going to kill South Korea for buying him those damn pimpstar rims.

“American Flag or sexy lady?” he asked in was seemed all earnest and she groaned.


	2. Chapter 2

He peered over Texas at her, a small unseen smile on his face. The way her arms crosses over those lovely tracts of land made it seemed like they were being put up on display; it was sexy as hell. Her panties were stilled balled up in one fist and he couldn’t help but feel proud at that. It was inspiring, really. Yeah, he was definitely firing up the sexy lady rims tonight. He closed the laptop, turned on the red white and blue neon undercarriage lights, and then the stereo. America slid the laptop back underneath the seat as “Cherry Pie” started blaring from the custom sound system. Canada squeaked as the bass made the bench seat vibrate. _You’re gonna pay for this Al,_ she thought heatedly as she fastened the lapbelt. _You just don't know it yet._

She was always amazed that America never got pulled over with the tricked out old muscle car; and god only knew how much it was contributing to the hole in the ozone layer too, but it was still probably better than that damn Hummer of his. She was also positive that the tinted windows and light violated half a dozen state ordinances but for some reason America seemed to have what England called “The devil’s own luck” when it came to the police. Remembering the debacle a few years ago when he'd convinced half the mediterranean into a reenactment of the Cannonball Run she became a true believer. She let her thoughts wander so taht she could cool down until they pulled onto the highway: America singing along with Warrant rather impressively. She glanced over with a smirk waiting until his attention was focused on the road. Two could definitely play this game!

Slowly and quietly, she unbuckled the seatbelt and threw her panties in back. Usually Canada was far more safety conscious, but an exception could be made in dire circumstances; and there was no circumstance more dire than giving America a little comeuppance. She only hoped that he wouldn’t swerve off the road and crash; she’d never hear the end of it if the car was wrecked. And despite what America liked to say about "good old fashioned American craftsmanship" and "indestructible H frames",  she wasn't too keen on experiencing a car crash without airbags. Still, the large bench seat was a godsend in situations like this so what did she know? Canada was glad that America’s legs were long and that he liked to drive with his right hand at the top of the wheel. There was plenty of room for her to squeeze in between him and the steering wheel and she worked quickly, careful as she unzipped his jeans her left leg neatly folded underneath her.

America looked down his eyes going wide as she neatly extracted his cock.

“Shit Mattie what are you-“ He looked up as he felt the rumblestrip and barely avoided driving into the guardrail.

“Better watch the road,” she replied sweetly and began to stroke him. He groaned above her swearing and forced himself to look away and at the road. He squirmed, his legs kicking feebly and she smirked. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it Al? She pushed back the pliable foreskin, squirming some herself as the large swollen cockhead emerged and for one crazy moment she contemplated begging him to pull over so they could-

“God, Mattie are you gonna suck it or look at it all day,” America growled, both his hands gripped the top of steering wheel far too tightly.

Canada shot an annoyed glance upwards at him before bending over and laving her tongue around the circumference of his shaft. Her breath was hot on his cock and she was panting as she worshipped the thick length. As smooth as the ride was, it was still sloppier than normal. She jerked him as she licked, the wet of her saliva allowing her soft hand to pump him fast. America bit his lip and turned the cruise control on; his foot was far too erratic on the accelerator.

“God, suck it, please suck it,” he moaned as he tried to focus on the dotted white lines on the road. His hands were beoming slack on the wheel and he thanked god the alignment was perfect. She put a hand on his hip to hold him still and then with a smoldering look that he just barely caught, took his entire length into her hot mouth.

She gripped the base hard and her teeth purposely scraped over his foreskin and drew it down further.

He meant to say “watch the teeth, Mattie” but could only manage a stammered and flushed “T-tee-tee…” because fuck if that somehow didn’t feel amazing and drive him wild. He swallowed- his mouth was suddenly dry- and whimpered when he felt her throat convulse and vibrate. Is she humming O Canada? he wondered for a wild moment.

“Mmmm” she hummed and moaned squeezing her thighs together tightly as she held him deep in her throat. She ached and needed and in a moment of odd twin pornographic zen she heard him whisper,

“Fuck Mattie, I wanna fuck you so badly.”

She shifted in her seat, and pulled back. Her tongue circled and teased the leaking head of his cock while her fist continued to pump him fast and hard. He felt as if he’d break the steering wheel and he was thankful there wasn’t a lot of traffic because try as he might he wasn’t exactly maintaining the lane perfectly. She teased him with her index finger and then worked the digit underneath between his slick cockhead and foreskin. America howled as she massaged him and in a moment she felt the warning rumble strip as he nearly went off the road. _C’mon, Al, I know you can stay in control. I’ll even up the stakes further…_

It was suicidal but Canada had come to realize that since achieving independence that she was a serious adrenaline junkie. Whether it was hockey, barfights, cliffjumping,  or any number of extreme sports, she was there blood pumping, heart racing, eyes wide and excited. Maybe it was the lack of attention and recognition. Maybe England didn’t hug her enough as a child. Maybe she was batshit crazy. Maybe she’d leave questions like that for another time because the hard wet cock in her hand was begging for more attention. 

America didn’t see the devilish smirk cross her features as she bent her head down again. She pulled his generous foreskin back up over the head of his cock and slid her tongue between rolling it around, flickering over his frenulum, the salty precome intermingling with her own saliva. She moaned softly and shifted on the seat as she heard him whimper softly, hardly unaffected. America was always sexy when he was needy like this. “Mmm...” Canada drew the loose, sensitive skin into her mouth and sucked, tugging it, letting it slip between her teeth. She heard the back of his head hit the headrest and the softly chanted “fuckfuckfuck” as she let her teeth graze and nip.

_Ohgodohgodwe’regonnadie..._ flickered through his mind at the same time as _fuckMattiedon’tstop..._ America was aware that his eyes were currently focused solely on the blue headliner and custom white running lights above when he felt the rumble strip again. His head snapped back up almost violently and he swerved just in time to avoid the guardrail for a second time that night. This time however, he overcorrected and found himself in the far left lane about to hit the divider. He almost broke the wheel with his grip and for once wished the old car didn’t have such easy power steering because he could’ve used a little fucking resistance when his body didn’t seem to want to function properly. He almost had a heart attack as he finally held the lane and another car sped past with a beep and series of swear words. They seemed to only increase in viscosity when they caught sight of Canada’s barely covered ass wiggling in the air on the passenger seat.

“Mattie-” he grit out intending to sound angry but instead ended up half sobbing the name.

Her response to this was a soft husky laugh as she released him from her mouth.

“Aww, does baby want to come for mommy?” she giggled- the statement nice revenge for earlier- giving his cock a hard squeeze. She started unrepentantly jerking him again: fast and steady. His spit slick cock throbbed at the attention and he nearly swallowed his tongue as he felt the heat diffuse, traveling up his spine throughout his entire fucking nervous system. His hips pushed up desperately of their own accord with her hand and he couldn’t remember for the life of him what the hell he was about to say but somehow he thought he was more excited than he should be at the thought of calling her mommy. Christs, did his cock really just get harder? Fuck, he was so close; everything had narrowed to that singular point and with both hands perched on top of the wheel all he could hear were the sounds of his own heavy breathing, the _spltsplt_ of Canada’s hand jacking him off, and her soft restrained vociferations. The music- now Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me”- was nothing but a buzzing in the background.

She could feel the movement of his hips growing more pronounced in the confined space and slowed her ministrations accordingly; there was some advantage to knowing America’s body as well as she did. She waited until he looked down in helpless frustration, caught her eyes, and then with a decidedly nasty smirk, she let go entirely and smacked his dick.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed and narrowly avoided slamming on the brakes in the middle of the interstate. _Oh please, you big baby, that was nothing compared to a fucking baseball hitting my junk._ She sat back in her seat and pulled the dress back down again, refastening her seatbelt. A small disgustingly demure smile was still on her face as America swore up and down a blue streak next to her.

“Oh look, Al, there’s our exit,” she supplied breezily although there was still an excited huskiness to her voice that she couldn’t quite mask as she crossed one leg over the other.

He didn’t so much as look in her direction for the remaining seven minutes –fuck yes he was counting- to this particular dwelling of his. Cambridge avenue was quiet yet completely accepting of late night noise. It was also a few blocks down from Paul Lawrence Dunbar: a street which totally reinforced the mythos of three name street being ghetto death traps. Even as late as it was, he saw a few of his neighbors sitting on the porch diagonal across the street when he finally pulled in front of his own house. He could imagine the curtain pulling back on the window of old Miss Bonnie’s living room down the road like it usually did when he rolled up late blaring old metal. As he got out, his neighbor Gabriel shouted out from his seat in the old lawn chair “Yo Al! Give you five for yo ride, man! Got a raise at work, y'know I'm good for it!”

“Pssh. Man, everyone knows you an't got no job!” he yelled back powering down the lights and closing the door. "'sides, ah told yo broke ass it ain't for sale!" He was grinning as Canada also got out. She grimaced at the stickiness between her thighs ignoring the exchange. _Jeez, and here I used to think women didn’t have this problem._ “Can’t talk now!” America continued with a smirk. “You hear anything, don’t you dare call the fucking cops!” He punctuated that with a smack to her ass walking around the car. The two neighbors laughed.

"We cool, Al. You make noise like the last time though and Miss Bonnie'll be bangin the door down."

"Think she believed me when I told her it was cats?" Gabriel shook his head turning the music back up.

"Man ain't no cat I ever heard made a noise like that." Canada rolled her eyes as she tugged the hopelessly short skirt down again.

“Pigs,” she muttered under her breath.

“Oink oink,” she heard him snicker behind her as she started up the stairs. 

The wide concrete steps up the porch were careworn but in good shape as Canada walked up them. She was amazed that all the crap was still there since America never bolted any of it down but then again there never seemed to be any bottles or trash littering his lawn either like the rest of the houses; it must have something to do with being a nation. A jacked up car that could’ve been the impala’s twin drove past blaring some sort of amped up gangsta rap hood shit lod enough to make the walls vibrate and it reminded Canada why America said that he kept a house here. He felt at home in every part of his country but especially here were everyone was “normal” as he put it: where no one gave two shits about his lawn being perfectly manicured, people barbequing on the front porch, or setting off fireworks in the middle of the street on the fourth.

_“And can you believe they were gonna arrest them? I mean really, getting arrested on the fourth of July for setting off fireworks? Fire hazard my ass.” he’d said the day after the near riot._

America was quick to join her, taking the steps two at a time after glancing at the state of the flower beds in front.

_“Got some flowers growing up through these weeds,” Miss Bonnie had said last week with that disapproving expression perfected by elderly women everywhere as if she weren’t the only one who even gave a damn. She was the only one who cared, really and he'd been half convinced she was gonna start ripping them out herself in that old housecoat and slippers. She'd done it before after all when she felt he wasn't doing it quite right. "You just rip 'em out like that, boy they'll be back in a week, you gotta get them at the root."_ He promised he had every intention of taking care of it. Well hell he wasn’t home all the time they knew that; course they all swore he was dealing drugs or some shit anyway and Miss Karen always lamented about “a good boy like him getting messed up in that nonsense.” Jeez he couldn’t exactly tell them what he **really** did for a living.

He fumbled with the keys before opening the massive silver door. He loved that this neighborhood was full of bright colors. His own house rather resembled a can of coca cola in color scheme with the red paint and silver accenting. Across the street was a can of Sprite, the door bright red like the cool spot. England had dramatically shielded his eyes the last time he was over this particular dwelling and had merely gotten a “God Bless America, right?” in response. England had muttered something about "chavs" and "Gloucester" that was summarily ignored. America heard sirens in the distance and really felt at home.

“Looks like the man’s out tonight, Mattie,” he commented as the door swung open and he turned the alarm off in the large entryway. "Must be the end of the month."

“Al, you’re the last person alive that needs to be talking about ‘the man’…” Canada mumbled before bending at the waist to unbuckle the ankle strap of her shoe. 

She had only just brushed the buckle with her fingers when she heard the door shut loudly and felt America’s fingers tangling in her hair painfully and wonderfully. "ah ah ah..." He pulled her upright slowly, letting her raise up, his own guiding just a step before hers to stretch out the moment and the pull on her scalp watching her and savoring her herlplessness to follow. He released his grip just long enough to take hold of her shoulders and slam her back against the floral wallpaper. Like the other nations America was close with, England had been asked to decorate a room in this particular house; he had the entryway since it was the smallest non bathroom area he could frufru up. America carefully tempered his strength just enough to steal her breath but not hard enough to actually hurt; he wasn't that far gone yet but knew that when he was she would be too- enough to enjoy it. Canada looked at him catching her breath: caught off guard but not surprised. She merely licked her lips and inclined her head.

“Wells that’s-”

His mouth was on hers before she could finish speaking their bodies flush against her as if he were trying to meld them into the wall. He kissed her with bruising force and she returned it with equal enthusiasm. Their glasses clinked and banged but remained intact if slightly askew. He tasted her lipstick, the odd chemical candy taste coating his mouth as he ravaged hers. Canada put her arms around him threading her long fingers through his sweat dampened hair as she pressed back against him. Her tongue swirled and pushed against his and their teeth hit more than a few times. She wasn’t going to come up for breath even as she tasted the coppery tang of blood. Neither of them knew whose mouth it was from. She breathed out into his mouth and the two of them wetly exchanged the same stale carbon like they were the last inhabitants of a dying world and saw spots dancing before their eyes.

America turned his head at last, dizzy and needy, Canada craning her head to keep licking and tasting his mouth. He shuddered and nipped back at her and God didn’t their borders still mold together perfectly even when their bodies weren’t the same. Especially those soft tits pressed to his chest and fuck he just wanted to bury his face and suck and- his hands on her shoulders slipped for just a fraction of a second but that was all she needed to pull his head back and shove them both off of the wall. She forced America’s head further back, forced him to bare the strong column of his neck and her lips were on it, kissing his throat, staining it pink. He growled as her teeth grazed his adams apple and realized belatedly there were far better places for his hands to be than on her shoulders. 

America grabbed her ass and heard her moan when his large hands squeezed her round ass cheeks. She rocked her lower half into him, her pubic bone grinding frantically against his erection wishing like hell she could get more friction. He continued to knead her ass, spreading her, pushing her cheeks back together, and panting as she ground against him harder. “This is mine, Mattie,” he breathed out with a hard _smack_ still seeing images of that fucking human with his hands all over her. She shivered and moaned as she sank her teeth into his trapezius; Michigan if she recalled correctly. Wherever it was it made his entire body quake and she lapped at the teeth marks with a soft purr asserting her own claim. “Ditto, Al.”

His only answer was another smack followed up by a possessive squeeze, those strong hands pushing and pulling and spreading her and his middle finger moved and teased the sensitive rim of her anus smirking at the involuntary spasm of the muscle. She rocked back against it the habit ingrained into her body but all too soon he moved it and she whined in disappointment. They’d taken a few meager steps towards the staircase but at this rate they’d never get up the fucking thing and she didn't want to wait to feel his hard length inside her. She smirked against his shoulder deciding to take matters into her own hands. For a cowboy like him it should be child's play. “Brace yourself,” was his only warning before she jumped.

There were times that America had forgotten his quiet brother’s true strength. She almost never tested the waters as a man and god how disappointed had he been feeling those weak little punches after their game of catch. He loved those moments when Canada forgot her insecurities and drove it home that they were far more evenly matched as brothers than she imagined; it made it all the sweeter when he finally won, too. His grip on her ass tightened instinctively and in an instant her strong thighs were around his waist, her arms around his neck. He licked his lips as they steadied themselves; after a step back an end table with an ugly vase was made a casualty. She looked down at him with a triumphant grin and a deliberate bounce of those beautiful tits. He met the expression with equal excitement and finally gave in to temptation to mouth her chest through the red fabric. Her face was flushed, the grin faltering just slightly as she spurred him on with a heel against his ass. “C’mon, cowboy, giddyap.”

He answered with a confident smile and moved one hand down, past her thigh to his zipper and carefully- fuck, it was hard to think with his face nearly buried in her chest- unzipped his jeans and freed his cock with a soft hiss. He couldn’t resist the urge to show off his strength- just a little bit anyway- ’cause he knew she loved it. He lifted her up with one arm easily: just enough to line his cock up between those parted swollen lips. His hand felt the sticky wetness on her inner thighs and it made his cock feel even more full and heavy as he rubbed her. All of that was for him and it was arousing as hell.

“Do you want it, baby?” he asked, shivering at the trickle of fluid he could feel pearling on his cock. She nodded, clenching her thighs together tighter, her fingers digging into his back fiercely.

“Christ fuck me already, eh?” she panted.

America slowly started to ease in because as much as his body was screaming to slam home in one hard thrust he remembered from experience this early into things she couldn’t take him all; she'd kicked him clean off the bed the only time he'd ever tried. Oh but he found soon enough that getting her there was the fun part! His grip on her ass tightened as he entered her cause fuck she was so hot and tight and right now this was all his. Canada might have had foreign relations with other nations as a male, but America was the only one who had her like this. He stopped a little over halfway in breathing heavily, feeling her pulsing around him, nails scrabbling at his back as he hit her resistance. Had it really been that long? _Fuck, you’re shallow tonight, Mattie._

“Gonna enjoy opening you up nice and deep,” he breathed hotly against her neck. Her legs had a faint excited thrum and she ended up tearing a few rents in that ratty fucking T shirt as he stretched her pussy wide open. God she was so tight too it was almost like he'd never fucked her before. Canada had to remember the breathe; it'd been far too long since she felt a cock as thick and full as his inside her. She’d been fucking South Korea on and off –it hadn’t taken much convincing to get a device of her own- and he was nothing compared to America in size. Ah, but South Korea had such an amazing trick for getting her vagina to shorten and tighten and even his little prick felt huge after he’d conditioned it properly to grip him just so. _Does Al even realize?_.. Judging by his reaction in the club tonight, perhaps not. America seemed to think there was some inherent difference when it came to who she shared her body with as a female. He couldn’t give two shits when she was a guy. _Ohh I wonder what you’d do if I told you just how bad I’ve been..._

Seated as deep as he could go, America started moving slowly at first and then grunted as he felt her heel kick him again like he was a fucking horse. But like any good cowboy, he recognized the unspoken signal to go faster. _You want it harder, baby? You got it._ He moved far more easily than any man should have been able to with her wrapped around him and before she processed it, Canada felt herself slammed once again to the wall. Gainborough’s “Blue Boy” fell onto the floor and she was about to point out how pissed England was going to be about the damaged copy when America started thrusting into her harder. It was so much easier with the wall to brace her, to keep her from falling away from him; he was merciless.

“Godyesyesyes…” Her eyes were shut tightly letting her drown in the feeling of him inside her, stretching her, forcing her to accept his girth and his length. 

With those strong hands on her ass, he made use of his crazy strength, lifting her up and down fucking her on his cock in time with his thrusts like she weighed nothing. Canada held on tightly, thrilled by how fucking powerful he was hardly noticing the scrape of the patterned paper against her back. She whimpered and gasped for breath, his body covering hers, his thrusts feverish and frantic and she tightened her thighs around him whenever she wanted to slow down and savor the feel of his broad back beneath her hands and feel every muscle work as he pounded her. “Fuck…fuck…” he panted as her greedy hole gave for him further, hot and wet with excitement, but still not enough cause he knew he could go further still. God he wanted to be completely in, feel his root splitting her the fuck open, hear her scream his name when it felt like he was buried up to her fucking throat.

“Ah...ah...” her cries were getting louder, her head bent, mouth slack as he fucked her. She felt the insistent tingle of what seemed to be a thousand shocks at once as he pushed her closer and closer. She whimpered and clawed at him, fisting her hands in that shirt. She'd definitely ensured that he wouldn’t be wearing it again. She felt so full it was almost painful and as he shifted slightly and it was then she realized exactly what that fullness was. _Fuckfuck not now dammit..._ Usually the alcohol would’ve gone through her a lot faster than this but then again she’d been focusing on other matters and hadn’t even noticed the need earlier. _Okay ignore it and maybe it'll go away.._  

It was an odd sensation that constantly bordered on without quite hitting pain. It was the need for two different types of release at once and the intensity made her shiver even as he continued to spear her. She thought if she came now it would be harder than she ever had before but-

“Al...” she whined pitifully. It was too much, too overwhelming. She couldn’t take it. She had to- “Al stop Ihaveto...” Her voice was almost too soft to hear above the sounds of his moans and the sound of their bodies hitting the wall. She squeezed her thighs together again, her forehead pressed to his shoulder scarlet with both embarrassment and excitement, her hot breaths fogging up Quebec. He slowed, agitated and confused, turning to look at her.

“What what?” Did it hurt? Didn’t sound like it hurt if anything it-

“Ihavetopee...” she hurried out against his shoulder and there was a frustrated disentangle of limbs as he pulled out with a groan.

Canada regained her footing and swayed slightly. Her legs were still shaking. She absently massaged her pubic bone, her full bladder intensifying the rush of blood.

“God, hurry up,” he growled starting towards the stairs swearing as he forced his aching cock back into his jeans frustrated. Christ that hurt; he had to practially bend his dick in half; the outline of it looked ridiculous in the tight jeans. He kept his eyes on her ass, a light pink and he could still see the fading contrast of pale skin where his hands had dug in. “If you had gone in the fucking club instead of slutting it up with that guy...” She stopped in the doorway and glared at him. “Oh shuttup. If you hadn’t been an hour late and strolled in looking like that...” Her eyes met his and she licked her lips at the half crazed possessive look. She felt warm, hot even and oddly powerful at that expression. _God you never look at me like that when I’m a guy you sonofa-_

She wasn’t sure what possessed her but the next words were out of her mouth before she could think to stop them. “C’mon, Al, it’s not like you’re the only one I fuck.” She turned and walked into the living room, her heels clicking on the hardwood as she felt for the light switch without waiting for him to answer her. There were so many sculptures in there that the Italies insisted America just had to have that she didn’t want to trip into or over one. The thought of toppling over a naked and armless lifesize Spain -and hadn’t that one almost caused a fight- was terrifying. Thankfully Italy Romano had vetoed the mustachioed Italian pizza chef sculpture vehemently.

_“But all the pizza parlors have one, dude!” America had protested patting the round little man on the head._

_“Chigi! That’s what’s wrong with this fucking country! Fucking stereotypes! And your fucking Olive Garden and-“_

_“I think it’s kind of cute, Lovi,” Veneziano had trilled. The poor thing ended up shattered in the resulting fight._

America’s hand was over hers before she realized he’d moved lost in her thoughts that she was. His face was right in hers as well, wild and intense.

“Not in that fucking body you didn't. Don’t you dare tell me-”

“You wanna know how Arthur knew I was wearing that thong? You wanna know why Yong Soo gave you those expensive rims for your birthday and said ‘no hard feelings’? You wanna know who else knows what my pussy tastes like?” He was torn between putting his hands around her neck and throwing her against the wall right there and showing her just who she belonged to.

“You... you can’t...” The red in his vision made it hard to think coherently.

“I did.” She shoved him back hard and when she looked at him the challenge in her expression was clear. _What are you gonna do about it? To scared to hit a “woman”, Al? C’mon, brother, what are you waiting for? That’s how this works, remember? I piss you off, you try and invade me, I burn your fucking capital to the ground… Or maybe just once I can’t stand against you and the superpower of the world shows that he’s strong enough to just take what he wants._

She waited for a moment watching him, searching. He was stunned into silence, his hands at his sides balled up and fucking hell if she was a guy right now he’d have tackled her to the ground and kicked her ass. _Is that what you want, Mattie? Cause damn it I'm not fucking scared of you! You don't own me and you don't tell me what to do._ She could make him cry and make him crazy but she sure as fuck couldn't make him hit her like that 'cause goddamn it he could already hear England shrieking in his ear about not hitting a lady and- _Is she walking away from me?!_ She turned away from him as if he were nothing and walked towards the bathroom door with a derisive sigh. He watched that sexy sway in her walk not caring if it was unconscious or not and how dare she walk away from him when he was the one that put that there.

"Y'know, Al... Arthur never hesitates." And with those words, something snapped.

Canada was at the bathroom door when he grabbed her again. She’d been expecting him to say fuck it and take a swing; she’d been hoping for it really so she’d have an excuse to duke it out with him. She had no idea why she felt so wired and aggressive; wasn't estrogen supposed to temper that? America knew that’s what she was expecting, too. He was ready when she spun and threw that amazing right hook as soon as she felt his hands on her. He pulled back, catching her hand with a wince- she was rather proud of that- and threw her against the wall with her arm pinned behind her back.

“Oh baby, you’re such a bad little slut, aren’t you?” He felt excited and pissed all at once as their eyes met.

“If that's what it takes to get your attention, Al. You never notice otherwise.” she answered quietly sounding almost for a moment like his brother. No, fuck no cause when she was like this she wasn’t his brother. She was in his fucking face, she was emasculating and she never seemed to realize that she was his and he couldn't make her bend the way he could his brother. _You wanna make a fool outta me, Mattie? You gonna tease me and expect me to jump like a dog? Fuck no it doesn't work that way._

“Uh uh, baby, it doesn’t work that way. You changed the game and you forgot I’m the United States of fucking America.” She gasped and squirmed against the wall, the sudden impact reminding her why they were standing there in the first place. She clamped her legs together, ready to elbow him with her free arm.

“What the hell are you- AGH!” 

 

He tickled her.


	3. Chapter 3

He knew every one of her sensitive areas and ruthlessly exploited them from Nunavet to Halifax.

“Oh god...god no s-st- ahahaha!” She laughed in spite of herself feeling a trickle of wetness escape her closed legs as she did. Realization dawned on her then with an insidious clarity. _He wouldn’t... No he wouldn’t dare..._ She told herself that as his fingers were everywhere on her already sensitive body. She half laughed half sobbed as he tickled her relentlessly and as his hands skirted her hip she felt another dribble down her right leg. _sonofabitchsonofa_ \- ohfuckinghellwhywashetouchingthat?! He’d released her arm and pulled her back against him by the waist. She felt his cock, still hard -jesus, was that pervert getting turned on?- against her ass and she shook and nearly doubled over as he tickled her stomach.

His other hand had moved between her legs, rubbing over her leaking piss hole, teasing her clit. She shook her head back and forth violently and struggled harder. He held her closer and she whimpered.

“Ah ah ah,” he taunted her as his thumb circled the swollen nub. She focused on the textured red wall, feeling her heart racing. Oh god he was really going to do it. He was really going to make her piss herself! 

“Al...” she begged, her left leg stepping out just slightly. She hadn’t even realized he’d stopped tickling her until that arm around her midsection squeezed. She mewled in desperation. “Please...”

“Would you piss yourself for Arthur?” he asked lightly, grinning wide now that he was back in control. He squeezed just a little harder while stroking her. His index and middle finger teased and tickled her sensitive folds. She continued to shake her head pushing back against him to relieve the pressure on her bladder. His erection pressed hard against her ass and her legs trembled even more. She wasn’t sure she’d still be standing if he wasn’t holding her up but fuck he was strong enough for both of them.

“Would you piss yourself for Yong Soo? For any other nation you’ve been spreading your legs for?” She might have pointed out that she did her fair share of leg spreading as a man too but that was hardly at the forefront of her thoughts as she was trying to hold back the floodgates. She could feel the pressure building up and it wasn’t entirely from the urge to pee. He was practically growling, rutting against her from behind, squeezing her harder. He was a man possessed like she'd never seen him before. It was different from when she was a guy. She didn’t know why it was different but she did know that he hadn't ever looked at her like that before today; she'd always wished like hell that he would.

“Never,” she gasped not even sure now that she wanted him to let go.

A flash of the last world conference passed though her thoughts.

_Canada had straightened the collar of the worn tan suit with a huff. Prussia had slapped his ass before being drug out the door by the ear courtesy of a surprisingly possessive Austria. He’d winked seeming rather satisfied with the result. Canada had glared after him. He'd looked to America busily talking cars with Germany and he'd stormed over giving him a shove._

_"Hey!" Ignored as always he drew himself up again and said louder, "Alfred, dammit I'm not invisible!" That had only garnered the same response and of course it wasn't until they'd all left that he'd cornered America and chewed him out._

_"The entire time, Al! His hand, my thigh! His mouth, my neck!" Christ even Austria had shown more of a reaction!_

_“Gawd, Mattie, you’re such a girl, you shoulda just told him to fuck off.”_

_"That's it? He harasses me the entire meeting and that's it?!"_

_"Yeah bro, you really need to grow a pair."_

 

_Canada had keyed his rental car for that one. “I guess you should’ve gotten the insurance after all, Al,” was the cheerful and completely unrepentant answer to his conniption fit._

“This pussy is mine,” she heard him say bringing her back to the present with a vengeance. She couldn’t seem to stop the way her heart raced at the declaration and that ridiculously strong arm encircling her. Feeling another small trickle of piss, she squirmed again in his grasp. Her body thrummed in his possession and she shook her head as he continued to play her: as he squeezed her harder. _I don't want... oh god... yes... want me Al..._ Her hands had gone to her waist with the intent of pulling him off, but she merely held on as if she were falling, whimpering and sobbing as she released. 

Canada wasn’t sure if she came before of after she pissed herself but the entire time America held her tight, his hand drenched with the hot fluid. She felt it run down her legs and moaned as it splashed her shoes and the wood floor below. The heated stream seemed endless and her nails dug into his forearm as her body spasmed and rode the high her bladder emptying with such a blissful rush. Her hips pushed into his hand which still hadn’t moved every brush of contact a hot white crack to her nerves and she thought he said “that’s it, baby, do it for daddy,” and she answered him mindlessly “god yes yes daddy,” in an ecstatic rush of breath. She wasn’t sure she’d ever come that hard before, come, piss, and whatever else intermingling as it wet her bare legs. She’d have fallen if he hadn’t held her.

He shuddered against her, savoring every inch of her against him, pushing against her ass and moaning as he felt her body tighten. He felt the wetness of his own weeping cock leaking precome anew inside his jeans and he just squeezed and milked every last drop out of her. _Can they do that to you, Mattie? Fuck you’re so hot like this..._ He felt her boneless and nearly limp, easily holding her weight as she gasped and panted for breath.

“You still gonna deny it?” he asked ever so lightly tapping her hypersensitive clit making her keen and twist. “That you belong to me?”

America chuckled as she straightened up, fought to control herself, and let go of him. She was still panting and his arm moved from the tight grip on her waist up higher, possessively groping her left tit. His other hand lifted, wet and still warm and as those dripping fingers came towards her she thought he was going to make her lick it off. The sharp almost bitter smell made her wrinkle her nose. She was about to tell him off when she heard the faint _thhp_ of him sucking the warm salty piss from his fingers. _Christ, I shouldn’t be aroused by that..._ She blinked a few times, still trying to catch her breath and couldn’t help but smirk where he couldn’t see. 

“You think… just because you put your dick in something… that makes it yours?” The challenge.

He paused grinning cheerfully. The salty sour had a definite sugar bend to it; she must’ve done the old Sugar Smacks for dinner deal before leaving. _Still underestimating me are you? You’re cute, Mattie_

“Fuck yeah, it does!” he exclaimed satisfied as he finished cleaning himself off. _Do you really believe that?_ _You’re gonna stand there and lick the taste of me off your hand like you can’t get enough and tell yourself that you’re the one in control. You’re cute, Al._  

“I can choose to submit to you,” she purred. “But you can’t make me submit.”

“I thought I just did,” he countered.

“You made me come,” parry.

“I made you call me daddy,” riposte.

“I made you lose control,” finish.

His hands roughly squeezed her tits together and she pushed against him in spite of herself. That darker tone flickered through his voice again like a phantom. “You’re mine, and if I have to fuck you hard enough tonight that you don’t forget it I will.”

“Is that a promise?” She looked over her shoulder at him, her violet eyes dark with excitement. They widened almost comically when he suddenly moved his hands and literally swept her off her feet into his arms ignoring the wetness of her legs as she squirmed.

“I don’t make promises, bro,” he declared with his usual exuberance. “I make history.” 

“Aren’t you going to at least throw a towel over that?” She asked practically as he started to carry her towards the doorway closest to the stairs. He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Mattie, way to break the mood.”

“Al,” she slapped his arm. 

“Alright alright.” He set her down annoyed and ducked into the bathroom to grab a towel. America turned on the light and almost had a heart attack when he thought he saw a ghost. Not for the first time he forgot that damn wall fountain was there and made what must have been the fiftieth mental note to put the thing somewhere else; it was hard to take a piss with a lion’s head staring at you. Canada took that time to finally remove the uncomfortable heels with a sigh. Much better. 

“Okay, we’re good, let’s go,” he hurried in a rush, literally throwing the beige towel down on the floor and grabbing for her. She ducked under him with a disapproving click of her tongue. Really, they were in a recession; he didn’t need to be replacing or resurfacing the floor. 

“It’ll take two seconds Al, think you can wait that long?” she teased before kneeling down and making to clean up the large wet spot more thoroughly.

America watched her as she worked, toeing his sneakers off against the wall and removing his socks. Japan had bought him a thoughtful shoe rack for the entryway that he never used. Her words played back in his mind as he watched that thick apple bottom sway back and forth. He palmed at his crotch, cock still hard as fucking diamond, trying to relieve some of the ache. Could nations die of blue balls? He licked his lips as she leaned forward even more on her hands and knees exposing everything. He could see her wet pink slit slightly open for him: could see the drying wet on her legs, the thick white that was starting to pool anew-or maybe it had never stopped, who the hell cared- at the entrance of her pussy. _Can I wait that long? Maybe. Do I want to? Hell no!_ He sank to his knees behind her quietly, unzipping his jeans, and once more freeing his trapped erection. He was amused at how focused she was. Really, he had far better uses for that attention.

Canada wiped up what must’ve been the last of it when she suddenly felt his large hands on her hips. She swore as he pulled her backwards in a swift effortless motion, and her elbows hit the floor, ass high in the air as if being served up as an offering.

“Dammit can’t you h-ha... ah ah! She automatically tensed from the surprise of the action. America hissed in pleasure as that massive cockhead forced her wide open past that sweet, tightness. She was so hot inside, her internal temperature raised from her arousal and that single degree was the difference between wet warmth and heavenly torrid walls. The pads of her fingers dug into the floor as he pulled out and pushed back inside again far slower and god his cock felt endless when he did that.

America’s hands trembled on her hips, his head back as he susserated out in a rush “fuckfuckfuck” cause damn she was so tight he didn’t think he’d get it in again but she was still soaking wet and it felt so fucking good forcing her open. He gave her ass a hard smack and moaned again as she tensed and tightened around him. Those needy high pitch whines made him shiver. He felt huge inside her and the deeper he went the more she made those hot velvety muscles contract so he’d feel even bigger inside. Both of his hands were on her ass now and he alternated between squeezing her cheeks together even tighter and spreading them wide so she’d be bared even further. He still wasn’t all the way inside, a good inch still exposed and god he just couldn’t stand it. 

America closed his eyes and fuck it was so hard to think of all the different times and ways they’d fucked to know just how far he could push her like this. It really only took him a moment to remember but it seemed like fucking forever. Canada, in that brief interval turned her head to the side, braced herself, and raised that lovely ass even higher reminding him wordlessly, that yes, this angle was just fine and please do it deep and hard. _C’mon, lover, manifest destiny’s in your blood and I know you want every bit of that uncharted territory._ He took the cue, determined to take what was his after being denied so many times. The head of his cock met that resistance once more and he growled deep in his throat. His hips snapped quickly as he hit bottom as she called it and he felt the give little by little, felt her pussy retract so wonderfully it was like his cock was made just for her. He was so close to being fully seated it was unbearable; goddammit the few millimeters of denim keeping him from being completely and utterly buried inside her were too much.

One hand lingering on the small of her back possessively he pulled out and then cursed, fumbled, and worked the rest of his jeans down past his hips. With an annoyed huff at the confining bunched fabric, he worked them the rest of the way off rather impressed at his own flexibility. She was about to ask him what he was doing back there when he tugged the slip of a dress up and slapped her ass again.

“Off.” He didn’t even wait for her to comply, simply leaned over and pulled it up past her stomach, past her tits, his moist cock sliding up and down the crack of her ass as he worked. She moved her head and arms lest she get pulled along with it, spitting the errant disheveled strands of blonde hair from her mouth. 

Those heavy tits swung freely as she raised herself up on her arms again, catching her breath, pushing back against him panting. 

“Do you want me to go even deeper, Mattie?” he asked stroking the insides of her forearms lightly. Her breath hitched as the nerves danced beneath his fingertips, her hands quivering.

“Do you really have to ask?” she whispered almost embarrassed at how needy she sounded, the color of her face bright. _You just get off on making me say all these dirty things, don’t you?_ He laughed softly and slapped her right tit making her yelp loving the loud smack on her pale flesh. She squeaked when he pulled her back by the shoulders. America easily moved the weight of her upper body and Canada let him reposition her to straddle him, her silky damp thighs over his: strong and tan and so fucking male with a dusting of semi coarse hair rubbing against her. His wide hands slid down encircling her smaller wrists, and he held her arms back as if they were reigns. She shifted against him, her wet heat seeking out his cock hovering over it teasing, torturing herself even as she tortured him. 

Her lower abdomen thrummed, her pussy throbbed above his cock pulsing with want and she felt his forehead pressed to her back, his breathing fast and heavy. _Move, God move…_ The air around him was raw with her arousal, her release, her sweat, her skin was moist with perspiration and Texas had a faint beading of dew as well. He pressed his lips to her back and licked, mouthing her smooth, pale skin rewarded when she lowered herself little by little, inch by agonizing inch with those strong legs. Canada bit her lip, her head bowed, stomach clenching with anticipation and want as she let herself savor the thickness of him driving up deeper and deeper. _Yesyesyes._ Her pussy drew him in so tight she could feel the foreskin on his cock slide back until he was buried to the root and even then she let her legs slip apart just a fraction wider, opening herself up until she didn’t think she could take any more.

Beneath her, America’s hips moved in small slow circles and god he was so fucking impatient before why the hell couldn’t he go faster now?! Didn’t he want to come? Cause she sure did and she squirmed on his lap and mewled and let those needy pleas escape her throat with abandon. He continued to tease and torture her, flexing his pelvic muscles, the hard length of his shaft feeling like it was getting even bigger with every swelling undulation. The way his hands held her arms back and taut she couldn’t move anywhere but down and closer to him without his permission and a fission shook her spine at that realization. She whined again straining against him this time and he pulled his head back admiring the glisten of sweat on her body, the cording of her strong triceps and deltoids as she strained defiantly him, and the way her neck curved gracefully, her head bowed in pitiful desperation. 

“Al… please, god, please,” she begged having no idea how his own arms trembled just faintly from holding her back and no idea how excited he was that only he could hold her like this. 'Cause whatever fucking England might have done he couldn’t hold Canada back like this the way he could when she was a colony. Not like America could, and not for the first time he found himself wishing that her male self would make him fight for it like this just fucking once. Male Canada was a goddamn deer; terrifying when backed into a corner but he’d sooner turn away than engage. America loved the bites and scratches he would bestow upon him but he damn sure didn’t make America work for it: make him feel this powerful when he finally achieved dominance.

_God. Mmm now that has an even nicer ring to it than hero._ He took pity on her, moving his hips just a little bit faster, and he could feel her push back onto his cock as if she were trying to pull his entire self into her. 

“Please… please… let me…” she trailed off, her legs shaking. Her nerves were humming; she needed to move. She needed to fuck herself on his cock and she needed her fingers on her clit because it was aching so much again cause god coming just once was never enough. Not when they’d hardly even begun and he was holding back like he was trying to prove to her innermost thoughts how wrong she was about being in control. Her thighs were slick as they straddled his, the sweat intermingling with the sticky half dried piss into something thick and raw and she hated and loved the reminder of the power he held over her. The autumn breeze from the open window was nothing against their feverish skin: a brief balm to a burn deep down to the muscle.

“Beg me,” he said voice more strained than he would’ve liked. _Fuck, Mattie beg me already. Beg me so I can let go._ “I know you can do better than that, baby.” He pulled her arms back painfully. He could’ve pulled them both from their sockets so easily and she half sobbed as his motions never did still beneath her. It hurt. It hurt so damn good it almost made her see stars and for one wild moment of insanity she was tempted to pull even harder  because fuck if his monstrous strength hadn’t always been the most amazing intoxicating thing about him after those baby blues and luscious mouth. And yet he denied her that pleasure too, following her motions perfectly, the balance of pressure shifting back to homeostasis but slow enough that she couldn’t move on his cock properly. _Oh baby, I’ll never break you._ He’d bend her until she was torn between wanting to come and wanting to die but he’d never break her.

He squeezed her wrists tighter because she if wanted to hurt but not submit; she’d feel it on his terms. _Dammit you hateful stubborn bitch, beg me already._

“Hah...haa... ah ah...” The pressure on her bones stole her very breath and he felt the slow trickle of her hot lubrication intermingled with his own copious precome squeeze out around the base of his cock. She hunched over biting her lip until it turned white not wanting him to win and maybe God just maybe if she wriggled the right way or shifted just so with the way his cock was pulsing inside her she could just-

“Beg me like you begged Arthur you little slut,” he said not caring if she could hear the urgency in his tone. _I know you begged that perverted old fucker too because Arthur is a goddamn sadistic motherfucker who can’t get it up unless you’re on your knees begging him for that miserable little shriveled tool he calls a dick damn you Matthew WHYDIDYOULETHIMFUCKYOU?!_

She shut her eyes even though England was the last damn thing she wanted to think about right now.

"C'mon y' dirty litt'l wench," he demanded sounding exactly like England, "Beg us for it, yeah?" Somehow, just somehow in that moment what he asked seemed to be the most blessed command and through the delirious pressure he was putting on her, the denial of her pleasure she answered. She felt as if she were right back with England because he too always gave her such wonderful pain when they were together and he didn’t give a damn if she was a woman or not when he put that pristine penny loafer to her spine and wrenched her head back with a fistful of hair.

“Please daddy, please fuck me daddy. Make it hurt daddy, God I love you daddy; better than anyone daddy. I love your cock, daddy. I love you fucking me, daddy. Please, daddydaddydaddy...” She didn’t stop when he released her wrists. He held her hips so tight his fingers had to be leaving bruises. There was no telling what was stronger in that moment: him slamming her down on his cock or her own heedless attempts to impale herself as deep as it would go. 

Canada hardly even noticed the tug of her full tits bouncing and slapping with the rush of their pace. She’d shut her eyes so she could feel the delicious dizziness their frantic motions caused and she could swear the northern lights were dancing behind her eyelids. She almost fell when America released her waist for that fraction of a second before catching her again, the generous expanse of his palms moving to her stomach. The calloused pads of his fingers explored the taut ridges of her abdominal muscles searching. He knew on the most basic intellectual level that it was physically impossible, but fuck he could swear if he tried he’d feel the swollen knob of his cock pushing out the front of her he was swallowed up inside so thoroughly. 

She spasmed from the questing touches, her muscles contracting involuntarily from the stimulation; it fucking tickled. At this moment though the her brain seemed unable to process the sensations into a proper laugh and instead she cried out louder, screaming his name in a half sing of “Aaaal!” She clutched at his hands, her nails digging into the backs and he hissed and bit her on the shoulder. Canada let one hand go, and feeling herself so close she moved her right hand down, the lightest contact even on her lower stomach reaching those sensitive nerves making her movements erratic and tight. It was then he tightened his grip, forcing her body to be still once more on top of his, and her fingers just now sliding to that engorged nub paused as well. “What... what are you?” 

“Don’t touch yourself,” he ordered with a tiny smile. “Trust me...” _You won’t need to._

Her face was hot she he spoke, her hands dropping to rest on her quivering thighs. Fuck, she obeyed so wonderfully when he had her on the edge like this. His large hands stole to her tits, hot, flushed, and damp with sweat; God he’d been neglecting these large tracts of land for too long. Even with his generous hands, the soft, sweaty flesh was still forced out between his fingers as he squeezed. He didn’t start out rough but as she squirmed and begged and shuddered on top of him he kneaded them in earnest, pushing them together, lifting them, letting them fall and quiver just so each time. He loved to feel their heaviness and weight and he loved to hear her half sobbing as he worked. His thumbs circled her large areola and he could feel her tighten reflexively around him as he rubbed her nipples. 

Canada had been embarrassed when she’d first changed saying that no woman she’d ever slept with had nipples quite that long. America had snorted- they weren’t abnormal or anything… jeez!- and said that in his vast experience (mostly porn watching) they were perfectly fine. More than fine actually; they were perfect for sucking on and so fucking sensitive. He pinched those hard nubs and squeezed, feeling her squeeze him in turn. Her hands, seeking purchase since the bastard didn’t want her bringing herself off, threaded through her sweat dampened hair, tangling and twisting. Her lips were pressed together tightly trying so hard to keep from wailing and crying out. He took that challenge and squeezed harder and she felt her entire lower half convulse and push as he pulled. 

America tugged, stretching pink nipples taut, squeezing them a darker blush of mauve, loving every moment of the frenzied vociferations he forced from her throat. Her legs locked in place as she felt that apex, felt herself burn hotter, her clit feeling as if it were full to bursting. She was so hot inside he’d have sworn she was feverish and as she came he felt that amazing fucking pushing. Her pussy was a wonderful torment, drawing tighter and tighter while trying to push him out all at once but her own weight and her thighs taut, drawing together holding on for dear life kept him held in place. It was too much and she finally opened her mouth, singing to the fucking heavens.

Canada was screaming like she was being murdered and America had a feeling he’d be hearing an earful from Miss Bonnie in the morning but as long as the old woman didn’t call the cops like the last time or come banging on the door in that old housecoat, they were good. He released his grip on her tits as she begun to relax, remembering how sensitive her nipples usually got; he didn’t need an accidental (at least he was pretty sure it was) elbow to the face like the last time. His cock felt like it was about to explode, and as she leaned forward, mouth slack, breathing hard, his large hands traced the curve of her slender waist once more to the wide flare of her hips; good breeding hips, Miss Karen had said to her mortification. 

Oh but it was definitely true, just not the same way his neighbor would ever imagine. America thrilled at the thought of thousands of American immigrants opening up her borders, filling her cities, invading her vital regions, oh god he was gonna come. His balls ached, heavy in their sac and as he felt them draw up, felt like when he came he’d never stop.

“Please… comeinmeAl,” she hurried out in a rush, bonelessly tilting backwards and those four little words made him erupt and made his spine fission outward in a shower of parallel nerve impulses, one picking up where the every other left off.

His cock surged, the warm fluid rushing out of him like a damn bursting. He held her still as he filled her pussy with his thick come and with no where else to flood in her full tightness, eventually it trickled out around the root of his flagging hardness. His cheek pressed to her shoulder blade as he caught his breath, America licked his dry lips and let go of her hips. She sighed in post coital contentment before slowly crawling off of his lap. America watched her with bright eyes as she moved catlike off of him, looked like she was putting on a damn show with her unconsciously sensual movements.

“Mmm, fuck yeah,” he breathed as he watched his come seeping out of her, soft inner thighs sticky with his seed. An idea struck him and a wide grin split his face.

“Hey Mattie.” She looked warily over her shoulder at the devious tone he’d adopted.

“Yeah, Al?” She sat back on her knees, wiggling a little as she felt his come pushing out of her.

“Turn over,” he said crawling over and shoving her on her back. She squawked indignantly as she hit the ground, legs splayed, glaring up at him.

“Y’know, jerk if you’re just gonna manhandle me anyway you don’t need to… what are you doing?” she readjusted Quebec watching him warily over the frames as she sat up on her elbows. He ducked his head with an exaggerated “tsk” and worked his left shoulder under her right thigh holding it. His right hand moved under her other leg and beneath her back.

“I saw this on red tube the other day,” and she briefly recalled that the last time he’d said those words they both ended up with injuries that would’ve hospitalized a normal human.

“Uh Al maybe we should just wa-AUGH!” She screamed- rather girlishly to her dismay- as he shifted his weight back and lifted her up straight into the air _ohmyfuckinggoddon’tyoudaredropme…._ Canada panicked for a moment before realizing that in fact he had a rather firm grip on her. She thanked god for the nine foot ceilings and looked down in bemusement. Her right thigh was slung over his left shoulder and when she let her left foot rest on his right bicep she found the position oddly comfortable.

America looked disgustingly satisfied with himself and she scowled as he talked more to her vagina than her.

“You see, bro, it’s a good thing I’m here.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes and sighed.

“And why’s that oh great U S of A?” That stupid smirk was still on his face and he smacked his lips rather obnoxiously. “Because… you would’ve let all this go to waste.” He punctuated the statement with a series of enthusiastic swipes to the mess on her inner thigh and her breath hitched. America thought she smelled even better now that his own chlorinated scent was mixed with hers and his cock was starting to stir to life again with a fury. 

_Fuck, you taste so good._ His mouth moved quickly from one leg to the other, lapping and sucking the soft sticky skin with a moan. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he worked, and Canada whimpered softly, amazed and aroused all at once by how strongly he held her His muscles didn’t quiver in the slightest from strain, settled as if he were holding nothing but air. She had a brief flash of him doing pushups with England on his back and thought that like Atlas he would hold the weight of the world upon those broad shoulders. Atlas shrugged; America licked pussy.


	4. Chapter 4

His steady hand on her back, America held her fast and secure and she was nearly dizzy at his strength, tempered so carefully for her; she couldn’t wait to get upstairs and feel him stop holding back.

“C-can we... can...” she tried to hard to get the words out between the flickering serpent’s tongue teasing her swollen labia. “Up... ups-s-nnngh!” Her hips moved as best as they could, straining closer to the heat of his tongue swirling greedily at her dripping entrance. A darker blush stained those sticky cunt lips as he sucked both his and her come from either side. Mouth fastened to that wet, quivering slit, his tongue pushed inside her, lapping a hungry circle at the viscous semen still painting her hot inner walls. 

She almost thought he hadn’t heard her, opening her mouth to speak further between the moans and gasps, when she felt him move. _Shit, is he really going to...?_ He didn’t bat an eye as he walked slowly, an impressive balance to keep her seated and keep his tongue moving. Her eyes were wide as they passed through the doorway and the rest of the house seemed to pass by.

“Ohgodohfuckohoh...” She twisted his hair between her fingers more painfully, stopping only when he pulled back and nipped the inside of her thigh. It was almost impossible to comply when his mouth returned at the base of the stairway, sucking on her engorged clit. She let go of his hair, her legs shaking, and as they hit the landing, threw her hand out at the wall for hope of something to anchor her down. Canada was mortified when her hand went clear through the painted drywall.

America pulled back, chin moist, lips reddened, and he snickered. She found the splash of fluid smeared across to be Texas oddly erotic.

“Dude, and here you say I’m violent.”

She stammered, pulling her hand back, face flushed from both embarrassment and arousal. “Sh-shuttup, hoser.” she grit out, determined not to duck her head and hide her face. “And w-who said you could stop anyway, eh?” She was rather proud of that one and America smiled at her, expression bright and enthusiastic. Fuck she was sexy when she let go like this. Damn Mattie, you’re a total waste as a guy.

“Sure thing, ma’am,” he answered. She settled for putting a hand on his shoulder as he continued up the stairs. He paused however, and she felt her breath go raged as he all but whispered, “Let’s see how well you cleaned out for daddy,” and then proceeded to lick a trail down to her anus.

Her grip tightened on his shoulder as he teased the tight pucker. Canada barely registered the top of the staircase and a short trip down the hallway. He began pushing his tongue inside her as he kicked the bedroom door open and she mewled  and turned her head, rubbing her face against her shoulder. He moved his tongue around, tasting the salt of her skin, but still clean from her shower. _Good girl. You won’t be clean for long._

America pulled back just long enough to bend, disentangling her limbs and throwing her on the king sized poster bed. China had decorated this room, and the red and gold on the walls exacerbated his flush, mirroring the pounding of blood in his ears. He said the colors were lucky and up until now America hadn’t put that much stock in it. He’d have to send the guy a fruit basket. Canada looked up at him breathing heavily, her chest heaving and those gorgeous tits on beautiful display. Her look was challenging. 

“God, Al,” she said mimicking him perfectly, “Are you gonna suck it or look at it all day.” She threw those words back in his face from earlier with a giggle. 

He raised an eyebrow at that, flicked the light switch on, then crawled onto the mattress to join her.

“You’re demanding tonight, aren’t you?” he observed as he leaned over and playfully tweaked the nipple of her left tit. Canada moaned in response. Assuming an artfully contrived vapid expression, America continued on, twisting and pulling that nub, watching her spread legs draw up just for him. The bottom of her right foot could be heard sliding pitifully over the Captain America bedspread as he stretched her nipple taut. “Oh but you know how thick I am, Mattie.” He mentally pat himself on the back for that wonderful pun. “You’re gonna have to tell me what you want me to suck on.”

“You sadistic-nnngh!” She whined as he let go and slapped the bouncing mammary abruptly: quick and stinging making sure to hit center. She wanted sadistic, did she?

“Did you want me to suck on these?” he asked in a honeyed voice before slapping the other in turn. Canada arched off the bed, twisting towards him, turning into the stinging pain.

“You know damn well what I was…” she trailed off again when America peppered her milky breasts with a barrage of deliberate slaps. She was panting, her body tossing back and forth on the soft bedspread and in the pale light of the torch lamp in the corner the rosy pink of those full tits was inflaming. The budding heat in her chest stole her breath. She shut her eyes to better focus on each sting of the back of his strong hand and each soft tease of “C’mon, baby, tell daddy what you want.”

He shifted between her spread legs, close enough that she could feel the heat of him but not close enough to feel his skin against hers. Canada’s long legs slid back and forth, the pale smoothness of her inner thighs rubbing and squeezing his hips in want. She gripped the bedcover tightly.

“A-Al…” she forced herself to take a deep breath, forced the words past her lips, the damn self satisfied smirk on his prompting her to respond. She looked up at him with a delightful blend of aroused fury. _You just love making me do this, don’t you? Poor little innocent Mattie can’t say dirty words without getting embarrassed; just cause I have consideration for what I say and you don’t. You used to love teasing me when we were kids too. Serves you right that I lost my virginity first. Austria still won’t give you the time of day in that, will he?_

“C’mon, I know a little slut like you isn’t shy about begging for it,” he taunted with another smack to answer her silence. “You showed me that well enough earlier.” Those imploring legs, those defiant eyes, were making him want to throw the damn game out and fuck her again until she’d clawed bloody marks down his back and screamed her throat raw. His breaths grew ragged at the thought- at the memory of their past joinings and fuck did she have any idea how crazy she made him? 

_Christ is he still hung up about that!?_ _I could fuck the entire OECD in front of him as long as I had a dick between my legs and he wouldn’t bat an eye._ And **that** gave her consideration for later on. But for now… _Okay, you can do this._

“P-please Al, please suck my clit… thatbigmouthofyourshastobegoodforsomething… please lick my pussy, asidefromeatinghamburgers… Oh please lick my asshole please it’stheonlytimeyouevershuttup…” America blinked a few times having an odd flashback of the time she’d made him cry. _Passive aggressive little snot; you asked for it._  

“Anything you say, Mattie,” he replied with deceptive sweetness. He ducked his head and repositioned his hands on the backs of her thighs, shifting her legs back, practically bending her in half. “You ready?” he asked deviously.

She was about to answer him, that wary expression returning when the phone rang.

“Holy shit!” America exclaimed and in his frantic rush to answer it he shoved her without thinking. Canada screamed more in surprise than anything else as she went sailing off the bed ass over head.

“ _Tabarnac!_ America you fucking psycho what the hell is wrong with you?!” He ignored the string of vulgar quebecois that followed, rushing with the cordless receiver to the adjoining office; the president was the only one who had this particular phone number. _I hope the threat level hasn’t been raised to orange again. Oh man the last time I couldn’t get it up for a week._

Canada meanwhile was picking herself off the floor fuming. _He did_ ** _not_** _just stop in the middle to answer the fucking phone! He did_ ** _not_** _just shove me off the bed to answer the fucking phone!_ She looked after him glaring furiously. _So help me Al, if this isn’t an emergency…_

“You just wanted… to talk?” She could hear the strain in America’s voice and was relieved that at least he’d be hanging up soon. “Ah, no Mister Pres- er Barry, no I’m… not busy.”America did always have trouble saying no to his bosses. Even Taft had run roughshod over him and he didn’t even want to be there. Canada saw red. _Alfred F. Jones, you’re a fucking dead man._

She was about to bust in there and give him an earful but instead resigned herself to handling her… situation solo while she let her mind work. At least America had a generous toy chest under the bed. She listened to him chatting as she pulled the chest out. The wooden antique had been a gift from Germany to help keep his house free of clutter. _Oh if he only knew..._

“Don’t worry about the news stations, Barry. You shoulda seen the numbers that Dubya used to get. Mr Newspaper’s just a... Yeah I know… uh huh… Aw c’mon I know communists and you’re no commie…” She rolled her eyes as she opened the heavy lid. She didn’t look at him as he turned to desperately mouth “just a minute I swear”.

There were innumerable bottles of lubricant and an assortment of dildos though that wasn't to say those were the only things America kept. The more disciplinary and exotic items were kept in a large black laquer armoire on the south wall. China had explained the long unnecessary history of the piece from the Shanxi providence in painful detail after the gift grab masquerading as a housewarming party. Canada had politely declined an offering of sugary fried bread as China produced the snack seemingly out of nowhere and begun the lecture in earnest.

"So, as I was saying, this piece here dates back to the Ming Dynasty. I picked it out myself from the collection they have at this old storehouse. You can see the careful attention to detail in restoring-"

"Alright! Finally killed that fucker!" America crowed completely focused on the DS in his hand. Canada sighed though he could hardly deny the monologue had all the appeal of paint drying. China stare at America for another moment and then sighed muttering something that sounded like "aiya jian feng zhuang duo..."Taking a deep breath and clapping his hands together to get America's attention, China opened the cabinet door with a practiced smile.

“Look see, we ah drill hole for TV cord." He rapped on the wood and America snickered. "Vely vely handy la! You like I know, see sturdy I tell you vely vely good ah piece here...” He switched over to that godawful pidgin english cantonese dialect whateverthefuck and idiot spent the entire monologue laughing his fool head off. She thought she caught a smirk or two in her direction as well; clearly making her listen to that was revenge for her boss not attending the summer games.

She briefly eyed the Platinum Jack Rabbit; those independently rotating ballbearings were always nice and it made her wonder if America hadn’t been doing any experimenting on his own with that clitoral stimulator. _Wow, I didn’t know Al could take one that big._ She set The Great American Challenge aside. She was slowly starting to lose interest in the entire thing really and was about to get dressed and change back when she noticed something new that caught her attention. _Al sure does like these wireless gadgets_. She picked up the pink anal plug and color coordinated remote. A plan formed in her mind. Now this had possibilities. She studied the tip curiously. _Oh, perfect, it can self lube too..._

Carefully tucking everything back in its proper place she left out a tube of generic lube and the plug itself. Canada worked quickly and efficiently, loading it up as it were and then setting the tube on the nightstand. She was quiet as she slipped into the office thankful that America had his back to her facing out of a large picture window above a cushioned window seat. The office was mostly dark, but silhouetted from the light behind him, America had to realize he was giving everyone a show where he was standing; at least from the waist up. _Fucking exhibitionist._ She realized abortively that she probably was too, but hell after all this time the entire block had to know what was going on between the two of them. 

“Oh yeah, I’m totally glad we can talk like this too.. yeah uh... actually I **do** kinda need sleep- Not that you were waking me up or anything! hahaha...” _I also have sex too- god why does every president that’s sworn in thing I’m some kinda sexless windup America doll!?_ She kept the plug and controller behind her back as she crept up behind him. His focus elsewhere, he didn’t notice her set it down on a lower shelf of the bookcase next to him. In fact he didn’t notice anything until he felt her press against him.

America tensed initially at the contact, attempting to crane his neck to see her. She smiled wickedly at his back upon hearing the hitch in his breath.

“Ah... n-no Barry, I didn’t catch Letterman the other night...” She was so warm as she stood flush against him, those soft tits squeezing against him from behind. Canada sucked on his neck, her mouth moving back to the sensitive cluster of nerves in the center of his back. She breathed deeply, committing the musk of his sweat and body to memory cause god America just smelled like a fucking male in heat. He swallowed a moan and shifted from one foot to the other. _Fuckfuckfuck I need to get off the phone!_ She flicked the head of his flaccid cock with a whisper of “It’s cute when it’s soft like this” and he sucked in another breath biting back a protest. She did **not** just call Florida “cute”...

“S-so yeah um... Oh definitely freedom of religion is all... ahhh” He moaned when her hands traced patterns over his hip bones, firmly at first to desensitize the nerves before fading to gentler, more ghosting caresses. 

Canada shifted and wiggled slightly, and America found himself pushing beck against her out of habit. _God, she doesn’t even have a dick right now but-_

“Y-yeah... still here,” he rushed out breathless as her slender yet strong fingers brushed the hard muscles of his stomach. _Mmm, you do wear all that fast food well, Al,_ she thought as she rocked against him a little more insistently. “Clarify? Yeah... yeah it’s always good s-so good to let ‘em know where you stand-” Fuck if his boss figured out what the hell they were doing he’d die on the spot; _Oh yeah baby keep doing that..._

Canada shamelessly and happily groped the hard pectorals of his chest sighing as she felt his entire body tense and release as he tried to stifle his reactions. She squeezed hard, the flesh not nearly as pliable as her own female form but certainly not still. She lifted, and pushed together, and kneaded loving the feel of strong muscles in her control. She watched his arm shake as he kept the phone held to his ear and watching the clenching and unclenching of his free hand. She indulged herself in admiring briefly the way the shadows played over the defined horseshoe of his tricep, and the way his bicep stood out strong and proud without the need to flex. Pulling her attention back to what was in front of her, she roughly kissed the sweat salty skin of his neck. Her teeth dragged up the smooth, tanned flesh, pausing to suck a series of small reddened welts on his skin. His grip tightened on the receiver in turn, arm trembling, and it took all of his willpower not to break the fucking phone when she pulled his earlobe into her mouth and bit.

“Huh? What! I’m fine!” his voice rose an octave when Canada rolled the hard pebble of his nipple between her fingers, deliberately careless with her fingernails. “Y-you don’t need to call anyone really-” _Oh god in heaven please don’t call the secret service!_ “Just... ah... a little under the-” he feigned a cough, forcing her to let go and pull back slightly. It turned into a genuine fit when she asked “Did baby clean himself out like a good boy?” and gave his ass a squeeze. _Christ!_ Speaking of dying on the spot; he could see the headlines reading “Alfred F Jones, United States of America, dead from choking on his own saliva”. Especially after he’d given Dubya so much crap about that pretzel.

Wheezing and catching his breath, America nodded and was about to beg off when his boss seemed to think this was a perfect opportunity to start talking about healthcare reform. Canada sank to her knees behind him, realizing that yes the fucker was going to be on the phone even longer, and indulged in worshipping the firm muscular ass in front of her. _Damn, Al, you’d never know you ate like such a pig just going by this._ She smacked his left ass cheek, watching flesh quiver and the skin blush pink as she gave a few more slaps, but fuck if you couldn’t bounce a quarter off it. She snickered quietly as America almost dropped the phone with a “Sorry about that there’s a... f-fly or something... yeah... you get those too?” America turned his head and looked down with a glare that wasn’t all that terrifying. “Little bitches aren’t they?” seemed directed more at Canada than anything else. She noted the fact that America wasn’t exactly moving from where he stood and continued with a dismissive snort.

He seemed to realize a moment later exactly who he was talking to again, and as he almost fell over himself apologizing, she slipped a hand to his hip and shoved the center of his back just so: a neat little trick that France had taught her. America yelped, legs spreading wider for balance, catching himself on the wall surrounding the circular picture window. He opened his mouth to try and explain except Canada chose that moment to spread him wide open and start licking his anus like it had the fucking antidote in it. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a moan and fuck he couldn’t even cover the receiver with his other hand busy. He prayed the microphone wasn’t half as sensitive as the box had promised; in any case, his boss hadn’t seemed to notice and he interjected in in a weak “no... no one with half a brain really thinks there’s gonna be death panels.”

Canada shifted and squirmed on her knees, torn between drawing her thighs together to try and relieve that rekindling ache or leaving them spread as they were, wide and wanton. Fuck it, he might not be able to see her but she felt sexy as she worked, imagining another hard muscular body beneath hers in a brief dirty fantasy. She’d been surprised that he’d still prepared himself, but then again America always had been a boy scout. She wriggled her tongue inside him, excitedly bouncing on her knees as she did so, giving her mind more fuel. God America was always so tight; the first time she’d fucked him she thought he was gonna snap her fucking dick off but he had such wonderful muscle control. It would’ve made her jealous if she hadn’t been the one who taught it to him. 

America’s fingers dug into the wall, his hand shaking as it continued to hold the phone.

“Y-yeah, d-definitely need more bi partisan cooperation…” He pushed back against her, head bowed as she moved that strong wet tongue inside him. Fuck it was stifling. It was too hot in there and he was half a second away from claiming a bad connection and disconnecting the call and finishing where they left off. Canada pulled back and watched the muscles of his back tense and flex as he forced himself to remain in control and God he was just so strong. She sucked two fingers and traced the ring of his anus teasing him by sliding one in just a little bit at a time. He tensed at first, but he’d grown accustomed to relaxing for her and she slid the first finger in with a soft moan. _Damn, Al, you’re really making me wanna turn back and show you just why I’m better as a guy…_  

She reigned that thought in. This would be so much more fun! She continued stretching him, finger fucking him now with the second finger inside. Even on the phone panting out answers he’d never remember, America was a natural bottom. She tended not to point it out too often as it seemed to embarrass him but he relaxed into everything as if he were made for it. He moved with her thrusts unconsciously, trying his damndest to focus on what the hell his boss was even saying. Christ if she was a guy right now… But she wasn’t so he really needed to turn that line of thought off and  _Holyfuckingshitwhatthefuck?!_

If she could have seen his eyes she’d know they were comically wide. Nonetheless she was enjoying herself. It was an easy stretch for her to take the tapered plug from the shelf and quickly expel the lubricant. She was rather impressed with her own ability to do it one handed and wet the device up until it glistened. Slick and hard, the plug easily took the place of her fingers. She kept a hand on the small of his back, the leverage forcing him to remain bent over. He was surprised- the lube was cold and he had hardly been expecting anything bigger than fingers- but as the plug stretched him open he couldn’t bite back the moans that escaped him.

“Fuck Mattie, fuck yes god fuckfuck…” There was a sudden silence on the line. _Oh shit…_

“Ah… s-sir?” he squeaked out nervously. There was a pause and he slammed his free hand back into the wall to keep from making any further vociferations. Canada could hear the sound of crumbling plaster behind the outside wall and felt rather proud of herself. He was so close to losing it and she knew all the right buttons to push to do it. There was a confusion in his voice that she heard and it made her wonder... “Yes… “darling Matthieu”’s with me…” Canada bit back a snicker from behind him. “Francis?! Gilbert?!” Okay, he was never doubting Prussia’s claim of being able to flawlessly impersonate his boss ever again. “You fucking cunts I’m so gonna get you for this!” She heard him yelling and as he ended the call by rather violently throwing the receiver against the wall she stood up and stepped back. America looked at her both furious and aroused at once breathing heavily. “You…”

Canada licked her lips with a nervous anticipation and tucked her hair behind her right ear. For all she found his strength and his fury intimidating at times, there were moments like this when he turned the full intensity of those blue eyes on her and it was arousing as hell. If she let herself she’d have drowned in that blue focus. Right now she wasn’t about to let herself. Canada took a few steps back wearing a naughty smile.

“You deserved that, Al. Every last embarrassing second of it you arrogant jerk.”

“Matthew,” he growled mad that he’d actually fallen for that. He was mad that she made him humiliate himself like that on the phone and he sure as hell was mad that she seemed to have the advantage once again. She took another step back holding up the remote taunting him.

“You think I’m done with you, baby brother?” she drawled with her fingers on the dial. “I haven’t even started.”

She was expecting him to come at her and make a grab for the remote. Sometimes Canada could predict him better than he himself could. She saw the all too familiar twitch of his muscles- and oh how beautifully corded they were- as he was about to move and danced out of his way turning the knob to 1 with a reproving click of her tongue.

“Bad boy, that’s not how we play this game.” She watched with that same grin as he stopped practically dead in his tracks with a moan. His face was flushed, and he blinked a few times to focus properly on her even as she turned the intensity up to 2 and watched him sink to his knees.

“Fuck…” He wiggled back wantonly as the device vibrated inside of him momentarily forgetting exactly what he was doing. “You little bastard when I- ah… ohgodgod…” She turned the setting up again, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet as he fell forward, catching himself. It was loud enough to be heard quite poignantly in the room. America was delightfully at her mercy on his hands and knees and she reveled in it. His head was bowed, eyes fixated on the carpet as the plug vibrated and god if it didn’t feel like it was massaging every bit of him from the inside out. He was panting, head finally coming up as he tried to adjust and she walked oh so slowly and coquettishly away from him. He fixed her with a glare and unsteadily crawled towards her.

Canada allowed him to follow, deliberately staying out of his reach until they were back in the bedroom. His knees practically dragged along the hardwood and then the patterned oriental carpet. He grit his teeth and she laughed. 

“Aww poor baby,” she cooed as she finally stopped, standing above him just out of reach. “Is it too much for you?” America looked up at her towering above him panting from the exertion. He let his eyes wander from the curve of her long supple legs to those wide hips that he loved to grab onto when he pounded her. He could see the dip of her stomach, watching the sweat that beaded over her abdominal muscles; they were tight, and her thighs flexed almost imperceptibly with excitement. _Oh you’re liking this aren’t you, Mattie?_ Her eyes were bright as she drank in the sight of him, her chest heaving as if struggling to catch her breath those pendulous tits so tempting as they bounced. 

His biceps shaking, he reached out with a low roar and swiped at her. Canada stepped back again with another mocking laugh and simply set the device to a series of hard pulses; she mentally noted that was setting 7. America went taut, struggling not to lose any ground, thrusting back against a phantom lover as the plug teased and thrummed within. She stalked over catlike, devious and cunning like a lioness would her prey. His eyes fell to half mast and his fingers dug into the rug.

“Not so tough now, are you, Al?” She heard that low rumble from him again, saw the slight shift, and easily moved aside as he made a grab for her, turning the “hot” dial halfway up. He went limp again, those strong biceps finally giving out. He collapsed onto his forearms with a whimper. 

Fuck it was so hot that it felt as if he were being licked by flames inside. He felt the heat inside him pooling and radiating out like he was becoming liquid and could’ve wept at the sensation. He hadn’t even realized she’d moved once more until he felt the tips of her fingers behind him caressing the plug. She shifted it, rotating it a little bit and he whimpered as she toyed with him. His jaw was set hard cause he’d be damned if he’d give her the satisfaction of- _Ohfuckfuckfuck…_ She shifted it perfectly hitting right **there** with just enough pressure and and angle and fuck he felt so full and heavy with his cock erect and hard against his stomach.

“M-mattie-“ he gasped out forcing his upper body back off the floor, forcing his head to turn and look at her.

Canada’s violet eyes were dark- pupils dilated until they seemed almost black- as she watched him writhe and moan. She sat back on her heels, watching his ass flex around the plug remembering with a quick flash of memory how good it felt to be balls deep inside him. 

“Is it too much, Al?” She taunted him rather breathless herself and waited until his head turned back around. She set the remote to 8- a series of erratic pulses- and put the remote down silently where he wouldn’t see. Her right hand moved down over her stomach, sliding across the smooth damp skin all the way down to the sticky wetness of her folds. She pressed and rocked into her palm to relieve some of the throbbing ache as she teased him. 

Canada gripped the base and slowly eased it out halfway before pushing it back in again. 

“I know it’s not too much,” she whispered to herself as her hand moved more quickly. “My cock is so much bigger than this isn’t it?” Her fingers parted the smooth outer lips and caressed her swollen inner labia. She teased at the tissue just inside the dip of her vagina, stroking and rubbing with a series of sighs. “And you love it when I take you, Al.” She was breathing far more heavily as she let her slippery fingers lightly brush the soft sensitive area around her piss hole, moaning as she felt more wetness trickle down her inner thighs. 

His only answer was a groan and Canada decided to torment him further. She rose on shaky legs and moved in front of him, kneeling. She leaned in deliberately, matching his position on her hands and knees. Looking down America could see her tits swaying gently back and forth, her nipples hard and cherry red from where he’d pulled and stretched them earlier. He almost missed the words she whispered in his ear with her hot breath: almost. The dirty talk had always come easier to her the more intense things got.

“I want you to have lots of come for me, Al. I want you to come buckets when you fuck me. I want you to gush like a fucking fountain, eh?”

She spoke whisper soft and nipped the shell of his ear and he almost came right then and there.  “I want you to come so much that I can’t even hold it. I want to be so full that it leaks out of my pussy.” She shifted her weight slightly and brought her still damp fingers up under his nose. America inhaled deeply moaning at the scent of her arousal.

“Jesus you’re so-“

“Do you want to taste what you’re missing, Al?” she taunted and smeared a wet line from his lips to cheek. America licked the salty stickiness with a raw, throaty purr and Canada shivered in response.

That smile still on her face she leaned in again, lapping at the softness of his lips, tasting the faint traces that he missed. He licked back, head cocked almost in submission, their tongues tasting each other playfully. If she didn’t have that damn thing pulsing so erratically he’d have thrown her down already and fucked her until the only thought in her head was “more”. As it was, he shivered and felt his muscles strain as his body followed the heat of hers forward to her sliding back. _God turn it down Mattie so I can fucking think already… it’s too much, too good…_ fuck what was she saying?

“Doest baby want to come inside mommy?” Her eyes flickered away briefly at those words, her face pink. Sometimes saying things like that still felt odd but she couldn’t deny the excitement as she said them or the way he tensed and looked at her feral when she did.

“Fuck yes, momma,” he drawled, taking a fistful of hair and bringing their mouths together again. America was slowly acclimating to the device, forcing himself not to lose himself in the pleasure of the vibrations or the thrill of the head it radiated. He focused on her hot mouth yielding to his and the ridges of her palette as his tongue invaded. She was driving him crazy and he didn’t think he’d last much longer. He could feel her start to give and drop her guard and he kept right on kissing her. America was coy, keeping his posture the same, mind a whirl waiting for just the right moment. Canada moaned, letting him lead the dance, her grip on the remote loosening just enough for him to release the hold on her sweat dampened hair and seize it. He broke the kiss and her eyes went wide as she realized that she’d lost her advantage. She twisted, turning to stand and bolt as America turned the heat off and the intensity down to a manageable level.

She was fast but he was faster, and America grabbed her ankle just as she made to scramble to her feet.

“Going somewhere, momma?” he asked with a wicked grin and she looked at him with an exciting mixture of fear and eager anticipation. Canada was still as she lowered herself back down to both knees looking over her shoulder at him. “I bet you liked that, didn’t you?” he asked with a deceptively mild expression not loosening his grip in the slightest. She smiled back unrepentantly and sucked her fingers; her own taste often fascinated and aroused her.

“You know I did, Al.” He chuckled as they looked at each other at a seeming impasse.  “So, you gonna let go?” she asked with a calculating look, “or do I have to play dirty?”


	5. Chapter 5

He had a wild flash of insight, both intrigued and apprehensive at once. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said his grip loosening just slightly nonetheless. Canada looked devilish as she slipped through his fingers and turned over. She scooted back and spread her legs watching him boldly.

“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, with conquering limbs astride from land to land.” Oh god she was really doing it. America sucked his lower lip between his teeth as her fingers circled around a nipple. She gave a slightly exaggerated moan, all show just for him. “Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand a mighty woman with a torch, whose flame is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.” As she spoke she cupped those delicious tits and fondled them, eyes shut as she kneaded the soft flesh. She rubbed her legs against each other for more friction, those long supple limbs endless and so damn sexy.

America crawled towards her and let his eyes follow the path of her slim fingers as they moved down to once again caress her wet silky pussy. 

“Oh god, baby, don’t stop,” he pleaded in a needy hush. She opened her eyes again and spread her legs to welcome him, borders wide and willing and all his. He went to move and she brought a halting hand to his chest knowing that she had him.

“Say it, America, what’s my name?” Christ she was such a fucking sadist!

“I-”

“From her beacon-hand glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command the air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.” 

“Please, momma,” he finally moaned out. She moved her hand as he crawled between her legs and slid over her like a fucking homecoming, seizing her hips, snapping her body to his that last precious fraction. 

“Please, momma, say it,” he breathed as his cock, aching and so fucking full rubbed her warm wet slit, drenching in her fluids. 

"’Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she with silent lips.”

“Oh god, momma…”

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free!” He slammed into her and it nearly stole her breath to be forced open again so suddenly. She fell back from the weight of him, clutching at his back with a series of sharp keening whines. Somewhere the remote clattered to the floor and was knocked up a setting by the  impact; America whimpered. 

“Th-the wretched ...refuse of your teeming shore...”

“Fuck, momma ‘m so close...” God she played so fucking dirty and he knew that he wouldn’t even be good for more than-

“Send these, the homeless, t-tempest-tost to me.” _fuckfuckfuckyessayitohgod..._ He wasn’t fast by any means, but his thrusts were deep and hard and she was never more thankful for the warm up first because fucking hell it’d hurt otherwise. She felt him just barely brush that resistance and her nails ripping into the tight, hard muscles of his back making him bleed. _GiveittomeAlpleaseplease..._ **“** I... I.... ohgod... I lift my lamp... harderharder... beside ohohohhh... beside the golden door!"

When he heard those last few precious words, America stopped holding back. She let go of him as he grabbed her hips and lifted her entire lower body clear off the floor. _Oh God, go for it Al!_ Canada wailed as he fucked her deeply and she could feel his cock curve, feel him hitting that deep rough spot and she sobbed. She could feel the moisture at the corners of her eyes and let it consume her. She felt him move even faster as her body responded to the stimulation, lubricating, getting wetter, hotter, and her hands clutched at the rug beneath them hardly noticing the scrape of the carpet fibers on her naked back. 

America could feel her soaking around him, heard her screaming his name and let go. With the plug moving inside him it felt like he was fucking her and being claimed by her all at once and it was too much. He came, lightning ripping the orgasm from his body like sweet death, again filling her full with his come. He watched her with her eyes tightly shut and he slowed down but didn’t stop. He studied her, studied the rocking of her tits, the tenseness of her arms that clawed at the rug and kept fucking her. He felt his cock soften slowly, felt the thick come pushed out of her by his cock and moaned. Christ, he didn’t think he’d even be able to get fully soft before she had him worked up again.

Canada blinked away the wetness in her eyes, the world coming back into focus. She turned her head, silently annoyed with herself for being so emotional but sometimes in some inexplicable instant their joining was too overwhelming. She felt him pull out at last- slowly, reluctantly- and moved to wipe at her face. America’s weight was still a heavy comfort on top of her and she realized that he held her wrist now as well and pulled it gently back. His tongue swiped a line across her cheek, beneath the arm of Quebec and tickled at the corner of her eye. Her reaction was an odd cross between a giggle and a whimper.

“Am I full enough yet, Al?” she teased when she was sure her voice was steady. It still cracked a little. She could feel his come trickling out of her as she shifted and watched him grin as he raised back up. 

“You know if you have to ask, Mattie, the answer’s no.” He let go or her wrist, hand moving down to caress her flank. So how ‘bout you let me me have at that ass?” He smacked her lightly. Canada pretended to consider it for a moment and twisted her leg. She had a knee worked between them before he knew it. Canada smiled as she turned her hips and suddenly America found himself on his back, that damn plug shifting again. He moaned, temporarily stunned by the change and she ruthlessly seized the chance to straddle his waist, pinning his arms above his head. 

She had the advantage of leverage and hooked her legs beneath his. America gasped when he felt her warm pussy, slick and wet with his come ease over his sensitive cock.

“T-too..too...” Too much. Fuck it was too much that it almost hurt and he strained and bucked up underneath her and God that only made it more intense as his cock still hypersensitive and half hard wanted to instinctively bury back inside her. She moved up and down just the slightest teasing bit and watched his triceps flex so deliciously as he gave a token struggle. America hardly thought it was worth the effort just yet.

She could already feel him getting hard again underneath her; America had a refractory period that would make a teenage boy jealous and she moaned when he rocked his hips.

“C-c’mon, Mattie,” he taunted. Do you even remember what to do when you’re on top?” He strained again, and she watched his triceps pulled taut with satisfaction. _I may not be quite as strong as you but I'm not that weak either, Al. And just because I've been spending more time in this body doesn't mean I'm not still a man._ America didn't seem to take the hint. “You’re so damn slow we’ll be here all night.” He was buying time, gauging how much force he’d need to break her hold without it being too much. “Let go and let me at it already.” His words definitely weren't helping his situation, pushing her past the breaking point, and her eyes narrowed even as she remained still. _I don’t know what to do when I’m on top? I’m too slow? Is that what you think? Fuck you, Al. I’m gonna..._ Her expression shifted as the anger she’d been shoving down was coming back to the surface with a vengeance. _You think I’m weak? You think I can’t control you? I’ll show you control you sonofabitch…_

She moved faster than he thought she was capable no longer playing. Her hands released his wrists and before he could use that to his advantage she had her forearm to his throat. Canada saw his eyes widen, saw the panicked expression as he brought his hands up to dislodge her; he couldn’t. Oh he was strong enough for sure, but she knew that he couldn’t do it without hurting her. Or at least he thought he could hurt her. She’d always been a lot stronger than he’d given her credit for. Canada felt a quick stab of guilt, imagining what he might possibly be thinking, but calling up all the slights, all the times he’d pissed her off in this evening alone and the fact that he seemed to be forgetting just what she was, she let up only enough to allow the faintest passage of air into his lungs.

“I don’t know what to do, Al?” she asked in far too honeyed tones ignoring his gasp of “what the hell?!” She reached back with her other hand, lifting up only enough to have access to his cock. It was still hard- perhaps even harder. Canada smiled.

“You wanna talk about control, Al? You wanna talk about me being too slow?” She stroked him and felt him squeezing her arm. It was starting to hurt but he still wasn’t trying like he could have. She let up just enough for him to force a shallow breath. Canada lined up the head of his cock with her anus, languidly opening up the St Lawrence River as if she had all the time in the world. “I may be too slow, brother but you’re too fast and too reckless. I also know if I let you have **your** way... you’lljustramitinlikeyoualwaysdo...” she muttered looking away.

“Dammit... Mattie...” America gasped, the room spinning as his heart picked up with the loss of blood and air. She toyed with him, stretching herself with his bulbous cock head.

“I’ll show you slow.” Canada had always found it easier to take the lead; she could never quite relax leaving it up to America.

She eased up the pressure on his trachea just enough to let him suck in a large needy breath as she sank back on his cock slowly savoring the feel of her body accepting him, her stomach muscles quivering with excitement. A series of breathless hitches escaped her cause feeling him in her ass was always so much more intense and required so much more submission on her part but when she allowed it it was beyond anything she could ever put into words except for homeostasis because he felt as if he were right where he belonged. She was almost drunk with the sensation, the not quite painful split making her whimper and go still as she adjusted to Florida’s sudden shift in geography.  

America’s chest shook as his lungs quivered instinctively wanting to take a breath. His entire focus was her as he looked up and she carefully applied the pressure back when he was fully seated inside her groaning at the strong grip of muscle around his shaft. She was beautiful and fuck if he could move, if his limbs weren’t separating from his body and coming apart and if she’d just move instead of drawing still and holding him still like death while she ran a blind hand over her stomach with a shaky hand.

“I know you like it Al,” she spoke with heavy half lidded eyes, palm rubbing her abdomen like the pressure and the fullness was too much and he was about to explode out of her. Canada always had to be in the mood to bottom. “Just trust me.” She started moving deliberately, the pace measured enough to allow her focus to stay careful on the pressure.

“I trust you too. I trust you...” She’d let up when she saw his eyes start to cloud over too much: just enough to bring him back to her. His face was pink and she felt his hips remain still even as she steadied herself and raised up and let herself down again with a steady control, pushing his come out of her pussy and onto the hard muscle of his lower abdomen. “I trust you to to be on time for a date and dress like you give a damn.” His hands had come off her arm as he let himself relax, let the drowsy oxygen deprived state bring him to a delirious euphoria. Her words ghosted over him and he barely heard. He was focused solely on the cadence and timbre of her voice and the inhale... exhale of her heavy breaths as she spoke. America pet the textured carpet beneath his hands somehow finding an odd sensuality in the woven rug. “I trust you to let me go to the fucking bathroom in peace...” He felt color as she moved, his cock red being inside her, her tight ass a brilliant gold, the plug inside him violet as it continued to vibrate.

She rocked her hips, manipulating a brilliant torturous circle, tilting back, using his cock for her own pleasure. “I trust you... not to throw me off the bed just ‘cause the fucking phone is ringing...” She continued to ride him and when she loosened her arm again he didn’t greedily suck in breath but instead took a slow measured hit as if the air were the sweetest drug and she were the only one able to shoot it directly into his veins like a hot shot. He could feel every part of his body as if he were only now coming alive and god the plug pulsing inside him felt as if it were shaking his entire nervous system. Her voice was the color blue rising and falling like the tide and America moaned when her movements shifted his hip with her rhythm, forcing that damn heavenly vibration inside him into an erratic pattern, the plug jumping with every heave of her body onto his. 

America could feel the blood running through his limbs, he was hyperaware of the tightness in his chest and as she took his entire length over and over and fucked herself on his stiff cock, it was the tightest, hotness grip he’d ever felt. Canada had started to speak again leaning over him her hair shadowing her face, and as she tightened around him, starting to tremble, reaching again for that apex, she was white. She was a brilliant white, and only her lips moved, her soft mouth opening, closing, the words lost as she pressed down on him again. _"I trust you to remember who and what I am even like this, Al!"_ she practically screamed to his deafness. Her arm shook and she realized her control slipping when she almost pressed down too hard. 

She pulled back all of a sudden not trusting her strength, not trusting herself not to press too hard and as she did the blood and air came rushing back to him all at once. America’s eyes were wide, his head tipped back exposing his throat and he looked at the textured ceiling feeling half delirious as she came. Her weight forward seemingly out of nowhere, he felt her hair tickle at his neck as she ground against him frantically her tits mashed against his chest, her hands scrabbling for any purchase they could find. He heard his name whispered with fevered desperation and felt renewed warmth pooling on his lower stomach from her release. 

“Please... please...” Her hands grasped at his broad shoulders painfully as she continued to move on him. “Please comeinmecomeineme...” she panted against his skin awash with the endorphins of a post orgasmic haze, anger forgotten entirely. She was moving faster on top of him, her body wanting more of the hot length, wanting him deeper and harder and filling her. Her thighs squeezed his hips as she felt hot, too hot and came again, burying her face against his collarbone, her teeth breaking the skin. He felt her drawing him in further and his arms, feeling less like dead weight, finally moved along with his hips. His limbs tingled, his body still floating, he held her ass, spreading her wider feeling her knees slip, feeling her slide down that slight bit further that made all the fucking difference in the world. Her muscles clenched around him and Canada pushed herself off him, leaning back, bonelessly letting him practically throw her up and down on his cock like a canadian fuck doll.

America was loving the wet sound of them coming together, loving the knowledge that the sticky mess between them he put it in her. He watched her bounce, watched her tits bounce hypnotically, dotted with those hard red nipples peaked and proud, watched her breathless and gasping. He fucked her harder and deeper forcing that wonderful hateful plug into spots it hadn’t hit before, and even as she looked about spent he could still feel her deliberately squeezing him feel her shifting her weight and fuck she was so hot and so wanton like this. He felt almost high as he thrust into her and he felt his heart race, his pulse quicken. The adrenaline was racing through him and he thought his heart might explode out of his chest when he finally came. She sighed above him as she felt the heat of his come spilling into her. Canada watched him back- his face, watched him watching her, and when the contractions finally stopped, she leaned in to kiss him rather apologetic when his hand fisted in her hair.

She blinked at him looking confused for a fraction, clarity coming when his expression turned from euphoric to angry. There was no apologizing for that but she felt as if she had to say something. That betrayed expression was back on his face and Canada looked down.

“Al I-”

“Are you crazy?” he hissed tightening his grip. As his thoughts became clear again and the sting of her arm on his throat came to the forefront of his attention he found that he was torn between hurt and anger.

“Dammit that hurts you-”

“What? Me, what?” He sat up, pulling her back as he went. “I was too damn afraid of hurting you before, you crazy bastard and look where it got me.” As much as he wanted to kick her ass for scaring him like that he wasn’t going to deny a part of him had enjoyed it. He also couldn’t deny the look in her eyes was exciting and it was a hell of a time harder to get her to look like that than it was her male self. _Fuck why can't you do this as a guy? Why the hell do you walk around like you've just given up on trying?_

“I’m sorry I... I just lost control and I-” She whimpered as he pulled her further back, shifting until she was off him completely, the both of them on their knees facing each other. 

“Must be nice to be able to do that once in awhile, huh?” he asked still holding her tight. “See, I try to be careful Mattie. ‘Cause when I slip up people get thrown off beds and buffalos go airborne right?” He stood up continuing to hold her down though he did smile. He was pissed, but he was also a lot more practiced with dealing with his anger without shoving it aside for later or going nuclear. Not to say he still didn’t screw up once in awhile but hell, that was the burden of being a superpower: something he’d taken up for the both of them even if she never appreciated it. 

America looked at her on her knees before him and his grin widened. He was feeling better already, really. Canada wasn’t looking at him like that one time with the chainsaw anymore and the game was back on. Cause while fear had always held some dark visceral excitement for him, he much preferred the look of anticipation, the look of challenge tinged with desire that she was giving him.

“Right, Al.” She licked her lips, conscious of the fact that his slick cock was right at eye level, glistening and sticky with come. She shivered in spite of herself watching him languidly stroking himself back to full hardness, watching the foreskin stretch and then retract back from his knob .Her pupils were shaking as she watched his large hand rubbing over the veins, circling the slit, precome pooling around the foreskin as he worked it. She loved his cock. She loved the girth and the way it stretched her open when he penetrated her. She loved tugging his foreskin up over his glans and watching it fill full with come practically bursting out and she loved the texture, the heavy fullness the way it curved the slightest bit to the right o the less depending ont he poltical climate and god she hoped he never found out 'cause he'd exploit it to no end. “So what are you gonna do about it?” she asked shifting where she knelt before him.

Canada was caught off guard and gasped when the swollen glands slapped her across the face leaving a streak of come in its wake. America chuckled, voice husky as he spoke.

“I think the better question is,” He continued to lightly flick a trail of sticky precum across her face, smearing the dribble of fluid across her lips. “What are **you** gonna do about it, baby?” Locking her eyes with his, Canada flicked her tongue out, ignoring the mess on her own face in favor of tasting him letting a thin trail of precome link her mouth to his slit as she waited expectantly. He didn’t release the grip on her hair keeping her at a distance.

“That’s a good start, baby. Why don’t you lick it clean and then lick up the mess you made for daddy now, yeah?” She glanced at the drying pool on his lower stomach and was about to ask him just how he expected her to do any of that when he forced her head forward. It was sudden, but not enough for her to be completely off guard. Canada opened her mouth enough to let the head forced her lips open, letting her teeth lightly scrape in that small bit of defiance. He swore and fought the urge to bury himself at once, feeling his cock bend as she relaxed her throat, feeling te gentle ridges of her palette caressing him as she tightened her outh around him. She moaned as he slowly pushed her head down the entire length and started moving her head. He treated her mouth like a tight, willing fuckhole and she felt her body responding in spite of how humiliating it was. Her tongue licked and swirling around his shaft as best as she could with his cock shoved down her throat and she could feel herself struggle to breath when he pushed her face clear to his pubic bone.

America carefully rocked his hips as he moved her, and he panted and moaned when her throat squeeze and closed around his cock. She was spinning, his scent everywhere, her throat contracting pitifully as she struggled for breath. Her left hand helped to steady her body, grabbing at his hip and she could feel the world floating around her. America watched her suck, watched the spit running out the side of her mouth as he fed her his cock and fuck she was so good, taking his entire length so easily, her right hand stealing down to finger her spread pussy. _This is real control, Mattie. Look at how much you love it. You can piss and moan at me all you want but you love it when I fucking dominate you like this._  

Canada could still feel the soreness of her ass being stretched wide open. She could feel America’s come sliding out of her and she wiggled harder against her hand even as America continued to shove Florida down her throat. Her heart was thudding. When he first grabbed her she was terrified, and that racing dopamine put all her senses up. Every thrust of his cock past her lips and down her throat reminded her just how strong America was, how forceful he could be, and yet how controlled he was even in something like this. She felt herself at her limit, seeing the black swimming in front of her eyes yet feeling the heat and fire of her body magnified. Was this what it felt like for him as well? She could’ve come again if he hadn’t pulled her head back and completely off.

She was gasping for breath, panting, and her hand digging in and kneading his hip.

“I think you missed a spot, Mattie,” she heard America whisper above her with a thick, ragged breath. She licked her lips, her jaw sore, and he firmly but slowly pushed her head to the wet spot above his cock. It was impossible to clean him without his cock rubbing alongside her face and the copious precome was being rubbed into it. She lapped at the thick, salty fluid on his stomach, her tongue teasing the faint trail of blonde hair downward as she worked. She was reminded for a moment of that obnoxious T shirt America owned- and actually wore to a world meeting once- that read “Yes, the carpet matches the drapes.” 

Smiling to herself, Canada nipped at the skin, letting her face rub against his cock even more with a soft purr listening to him hiss, feeling the grip on her scalp tighten with a painful slip in control. She sucked the clean skin, roughly, seeing the small red marks appear wherever she’d cleaned him off. He smacked her face again with his spit dampened cock, watching her eyes shut, watching the way she rutted against her hand even more vigorously when he did wondering how fucking hot she’d look if he just came all over her face.

“Fuck, Mattie if this was what you wanted all you had to do was ask.” 

She looked up at him, Quebec foggy and dirtied perched on her nose and she shot him a naughty smile as he stroked his cock and continued to sully her face.

“I could… but where’s the fun in that eh?” America shivered ‘cause she looked so fucking smug like that even down on her knees like a damn whore. Looking down, she strained against his grip, leaning forward. “Just making sure I didn’t miss a spot,” she teased and he let her move closer. Canada switched her focus and moved her head down until he could feel her hot breath on his balls. 

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered, stroking himself faster. His hand glided up and down the shaft furiously, the thick girth already wet from her spit, tugging and stretching the foreskin. His grip on her hair loosened and she could feel the way his large hand possessively cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through her damp blonde hair to knead at her scalp. She tongued the sensitive sac hearing America make a series of noises that were a funny cross of laughter and moaning. She flicked at the soft wrinkled skin quickly, hearing the hitches in his breath, feeling his testes drawing tight under her ministrations. She felt her fingers between her legs soaking, and she pushed them inside her aching pussy with abandon, feel his come inside her sliding around the frantic digits as she fucked herself.

Canada moaned her face buried between his legs and took one of his balls into her mouth.

“Oh God.” America’s knees shook and he almost thought his legs were going to give out.  He could feel all the heat concentrated and pooling downward, feeling like quicksilver between her lips. His hips bucked the only sounds reaching his ears were her moans his own pulse in his ears and the hum of the insidious device that continued to keep him stretched and work to milk even more come out of him. Canada pulled her head back slightly, allowing the skin to stretch, her tongue circling the sensitive organ while she listened to him practically sobbing her name. 

America’s hand moved faster, fisting his cock tightly as she continued to suck and tease and fucking hell she just took them both into her hot mouth and he felt like he was about to explode in a shower of sparks. Knees locked together, America whimpered and had he been more coherent he’d have been embarrassed at the needy whines from his throat. Canada rolled both balls in her mouth and pressed her face deeper into his groin feeling her pussy contract around her fingers as that dizzy breathless state overtook her. She felt her chest tighten wonderfully, felt every part of her body draw tighter and felt the Quebec mashed into her face. 

She added a third finger, her palm rubbing her engorged clit in an uncoordinated desperate bid to make herself come. She could hear America faintly but was overcome by the sound of her own heartbeat loudly pulsing inside her head, and she could feel the wetness spill out of her mouth as she sucked and practically choked herself on his balls. 

“Mattie…” She finally heard his voice above her insistently, breaking through the hypoxic haze. His wide palm on the back of her head moved and she reluctantly drew back, releasing his sac with a faint _pop_. Readjusting Quebec- though she still could barely see- with one hand, she looked up at him over the dirty lenses.

“Hmm?” Canada shamelessly continued to writhe, hooking her index finger, pressing on that spot, hardly able to focus on him. America’s tipped her head back just the slightest bit, his aching cock dark with blood. She licked her lips her chest heaving not just from the needy breaths she’d denied herself but from excitement. Her eyes met his and she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Shivering, she shut them speaking in a hush that he read more than heard. “Are you gonna cum in my face, America?” She hissed, her hand moving faster, the thought arousing her like she’d have never imagined. “Are you gonna mark your territory like a fucking animal?”

Mmm, fuck yeah I am,” he growled pushing his hips, the plug hitting his prostate each time as he did. His balls were heavy as they drew up, his cock was so fucking full and when he looked down at her just waiting for him to give it to her he came undone.

She was bouncing now as she knelt with her thighs spread- her eyes closed just waiting for him to do it. Canada heard his ragged breaths come to a crescendo as he cried out, “Oh god, baby I’m c-c-ah ah…” She opened her mouth feeling the first splash of his come hit her tongue, thick and warm. She swallowed the salty fluid at the same time that he came on her face. America felt like he’d never stop fucking coming. He put his mark on Quebec, the already soiled lenses became dotted with white and as he watched her throat draw taut, and watched her back arch into the stream he was shooting, he realized that she was coming just because he fucking came on her.

Canada almost bit her tongue as she came, disoriented and swimming. She ground against her palm, her muscles pushing even more of his come out of her and around her fingers. She was sure the come she pushed out of his ass must’ve hit the rug but that was the last damn thing on her mind. She moved her hand faster and harder as the heated tingle between her legs grew unbearable and held on to the pulsing wave after wave that pushed and pulled at once. She felt her own hot fluid squirt into her palm as she pressed and stroked herself inside and whimpered as the feel of her hand was finally too much for her over stimulated nerves.

America didn’t think he’d ever stop coming, the plug and its insidious vibration milking more come out of him than he ever thought possible. He watched her body arch and as her chest pushed out he stroked himself harder, painting those fully, heavy tits. Her face was covered, the gooey semen slowly dribbling down her cheeks and chin. Breathing heavily, Canada brought her hand back up, licking it clean, drawing her long, slender fingers across the mess on her face, bringing it to her mouth. 

“Jeez, youmademesodirty…” she mumbled, dropping her eyes shyly suddenly feeling bashful. She couldn’t imagine what she must look like, and sucked the digit thoughtfully.

America released his hold on her head, both hands falling to her shoulders. He was spent, boneless, and he steadied himself looking down at her. 

“God, you look so damn sexy,” America said at last. He sank to his knees and grabbed the remote shutting the plug off with a sigh. Biting his lip, he reached behind himself and finally removed it, head bowed, hissing softly.  He tossed them both over his shoulder not missing her grimace as they landed on the bed. “Worry about it later, I’m tired.” He could wash the damn bedspread and clean everything off after a hot shower. 

“It’s the rug too, Al,” she said under her breath mournfully and he only just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seeking a distraction, America leaned in cleaning her face off and Canada snickered softly and closed her eyes thinking that he reminded her of an overly affectionate puppy. 

America removed Quebec playfully when he saw that she was distracted and stood up when she opened her eyes and blinked at him myopically. Canada squinted automatically and rose on shaky legs looking annoyed.

“Al, give those back, I can’t see.” She grabbed for the glasses glaring as America stepped back holding them above his head.

“Oh, too slow,” He laughed and avoided another lunge this time hooking an arm around her waist as she reached up. America pulled her close and kissed her soundly when she opened her mouth to protest. Her arms trapped against his chest between them now sticky, she kneaded as his pectoral muscles like an annoyed cat until finally resigning herself and relaxing into the kiss.

Canada sighed as America’s tongue lazily circled her own. He tasted like the both of them, salty starting to stale yet somehow it was one of the best kisses he’d ever given her. He dipped her back dramatically in a show of strength, not breaking the kiss, tasting her palette, arm not even straining around her waist as he made her bend, made her back arch perfectly. She felt almost dizzy when he let her up and broke the kiss. Canada blinked at him almost stupidly as he perched Quebec on top of her head and grinned- at least she thought that’s what that expression was.

“We so should get married,” America said at last turning to walk into the adjoining bathroom at the far end of the master suite. Canada wiped her glasses as best as she could before deciding it was hopeless and squinted at his bare ass moving towards the double doors. _I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea I can’t even- what what?!_ She almost tripped, stumbling after him.

“What?!’  The stone was cold under her feet, America already ahead of her turning one of the faucets on the wall still loving the novelty; this was his only house with a setup like this. There were two, each with a small wooden stool. Japan designed the bathroom, a large soaking tub on the other side. America loved the floor toilet.

“I said let’s get married, Mattie,” America answered taking a seat cavalier as hell. She didn’t see him wince lightly as he sat down. Canada turned on the faucet of the vessel sink, and took Quebec off from her head, rinsing the semen from the lenses. Her heart felt like it was gonna pound out of her chest and how the hell was he asking such a thing like they were talking about the weather?! Her attention was fixed on the porcelain as she scrubbed. 

America watched her over his shoulder enjoying the full view of her backside. He admired the sensual dip of her spine, that apple bottom that just begged to be fucked again, those endless shapely legs, and Christ those tracts of land could give Ukraine a run for her money! He let the spray wash over him, slow as he washed with the rough towel, busily watching her. Canada finished rinsing off the lenses and fished around in in the medicine cabinet for the cleaner still consider his ludicrous proposal. The sway of her tits was hypnotic, those large, flushed nipples erect from the chill of the air and fuck just watching her America was half hard again. _You’re so fucking hot like that, Mattie._

“I think I cut off the flow of oxygen to your brain too long, Al,” she said at last, wiping Quebec clean and setting it aside. She washed her face quickly wondering what on earth he was thinking. America always seemed to come up with some insane post coital scheme every other month, though this was hardly worse than the “matching tattoos” which thankfully never came to fruition. 

“Aw, c’mon, I’m serious. We could be like the North American Union.” He reached for the shampoo, squeezing a generous amount in his hand. She wasn’t biting. “Camerica?” Canada almost dropped the glasses at that one, catching them at the last moment before setting them on her face.

“Al, don’t be ridiculous.” She took a seat on the stool next to him with a wince of her own turning the spray on her faucet on. “I’m invisible enough as it is, I’d probably disappear entirely if we did that.” Focused on cleaning she paid little attention to the way he continued to oggle her naked body as he washed his hair.

“Okay so... it doesn’t have to be political, right? Just Alfred and Matthew and not America and Canada.” She snorted as she began to wash off.

“Ask me again when we haven’t just had sex andI’msurethatrugisruinedbytheway...” Oblivious to his stare, she enjoyed the hot water and the exfoliating towel on her skin. America watched her as he filled the wooden bucket with warm water. _God, you’re amazing like that. You’re so damn gorgeous and you’re not just some shmuck who looks and acts like the poor man’s America. You could stay like that forever... you’d like that, wouldn’t you? We’d be like some Hollywood supercouple... get a house on the border and I could come home to that waiting for me every night. God, just say yes, Mattie and we can do it again right here._

“Besides,” she continued setting the towel aside with a snort unaware of his internal monologue, “It’s not even legal for us to get married here.” _And on that note I really need to change back. My boss keeps looking at me funny and I like being able to take a piss standing up. Jeez I don't know how women stand these things, they keeping getting in the way and Al what are you still staring at?_ He was far too quiet and she turned to look at him curiously. "Hey, earth to America, are you-"

“You could stay like that, Mattie!” he blurted out at last. The silence was tangible as he met her eyes in earnest and she stared back with an unreadable expression. "Ha ha, very funny," she replied rubbing the towel over her shoulder.

"I'm not joking," he answered more quietly and she was beginning to feel an odd anxious feeling in her stomach. 

“I’m a man, Al,” she said as the water continued to run. _Did you forget that little detail? Did you forget this is just a stupid game we’re playing Cause you said you wanted to see what it’d be like? Did you forget me, your brother? Your fucking twin? I’m not a fucking woman, Al and don’t you dare-_

“But you’re perfect like this!” He interrupted her thoughts with yet another tactless rejoiner and continued on in a rush ignoring the growing look of horror on her face as he spoke.

“I mean you’re so fucking amazing! You're sexy and fun and not all uptight and you wear it so well it's like you're totally the perfect woman! I mean yeah you don't have a dick but you don’t really need one right? You’re better like this. You're not all 'whatever you say, Al' or whining about stupid crap or complaining I don't listen to you or take you seriously. You’re like some supermodel bombshell and-” He kept talking. He kept fucking talking and the more he built up this fantatsic and ridiculous Canada vixen, the more anger battled hurt and the more total meltdown rage won out. Canada wasn’t used to flying off the handle. It was far more like her to sigh, feel the slight slump in her shoulders and walk away but right now she was seeing red and she couldn’t even fucking breathe and if she didn’t get out of there she was going to fucking kill him.

She didn’t say another word. She simply grabbed the bucket, dumped the water over his head and slammed it down over top before storming out of the bathroom, the dual faucets muffling the sound of her feet on the stone floor. America stopped his monologue, a stunned expression beneath the pail on his head, sitting silently for a few moments thinking perhaps that could’ve gone better. 

“Okay so maybe that was a little... Mattie?” He took the damn thing off his head but didn’t see her. “What the fuck?” Not even bothering to turn off the water, he got up and poked his head out the bathroom door. His robe wasn’t hanging up on it anymore and he heard the alarm beep as the front door opened. Fuck, she was fast.

He didn’t waste any time. He didn’t care that he was naked as he tore down the stairs almost tripping as he rushed to catch her.

“Wait! Dammit, wait!” Where was she gonna go?! She didn’t have a car. She didn’t have fucking shoes, just a robe and the car keys were still in his- He heard the car start up outside. _Fuck!_ America practically tore the door off the hinge as he rushed to catch her. “Wait! Fuck, Mattie you can’t just leave!”  Behind the wheel, she didn’t even look at him. She didn’t see him as he ran towards the car naked as the day he was born.

Canada slammed on the gas as he dove for the door. He made an abortive attempt to catch her, hands slamming the side, yelping as she almost ran his fucking foot over. Christ she didn’t even have any money and how late was it, even? It was daylight, he realized as he stopped in the middle of the street wet, naked, and cold. _Okay so maybe I coulda said it better but even she’s gotta realize that-_

“Alfred F. Jones!” He tensed immediately at the sound of that voice, hands automatically making a feeble attempt to cover himself as he turned. He opened his mouth, not even having a chance to continue before he heard the old woman again. “Boy, it is six o clock in the damn morning what the hell is you doing out here actin’ like a damn fool?!”

_Christ, could this night turn out any worse?!_ Head back towards the sky he cursed every damn deity he could bring to mind.

“Oh my gawd, Miss Bonnie, I ain’t even trying to hear all that right now!” he groaned covering himself best as he could as he made his way back to the porch. 

“Boy, don’t you sass me, I’ll come over there and whup your naked ass like your momma shoulda done. I don’t what you did to that poor girl but I’m two seconds from calling the police-” and on and on even after he’d practically crawled back onto the porch with a few apologies and of course Miss Karen’s daughter could be going at it in the middle of the street with that asshole she was seeing but heaven forbid he have one little incident with **his** girlfriend and-

Girlfriend? Well damn, when had that line of thinking started? He looked down silently contemplating as he made his way back in the house. Well shit, Canada would come around. Right?


End file.
